Strength, Chance or Fate
by Persephone33
Summary: Even if he caught a glimpse of her flame coloured hair around a corner, it was enough to keep him breathing, alive.  The title comes from Milton's Paradise Lost.  Everything Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and other people with money.  I own nothing.
1. Cocoa, Dreams and a Train Ride

Chapter One

He spent a lot of time watching her. It seemed to be a new favourite pastime; at least it was better than tormenting first years, better than ordering around Crabbe and Goyle, and certainly better than listening to the simpering of that delusional harpy Parkinson. Not that any of that was an option this year, anyway. Watching her was a new kind of fun, roughly on par with Potter-baiting or putting her boor of a brother in his place. He couldn't do that either, though, not this year. The golden trio had left on some important mission this year that would probably save the bloody world.

Again.

No, he certainly wouldn't be sad that the Mudblood, Potty and the Weasel King wouldn't be around. However, just the thought of them wasn't the only thing that made his voyeurism uncomfortable. Her family. They were a bunch of Neanderthal prats with too much bravery for their own good, tattered robes and no pride in their heritage. Always siding with the less powerful, less desirable, less fortunate. Blood traitors, the lot.

But her…

Even if he only got a glimpse of her flame-coloured hair around a corner, it was enough. Enough to keep him breathing. Alive.

He had prolonged his life by one year. One year. No one knew why he wanted to come back to Hogwarts, very few Slytherins were there. None from the families of Death Eaters; only he was left. He was ostracized by the rest of the school, even the teachers barely tolerated him. He kept to himself, mostly. Eating infrequently, sitting at the back of classes, trying, for the first time in his life, to just blend in. To not be noticed. But that was a laugh; he was Draco Malfoy. Death Eater. Father in Azkaban. Almost killed Albus Dumbledore. Hated by all. Loved by none. Well…

He didn't even know where the one person who loved him was; his mother had gone into hiding as soon as he was back at school. It was early November and he'd had no word. Nothing. Nothing but cold stares, muttered insults, thinly veiled threats and cold indifference from everyone else.

Except for her.

She hadn't done any of those things.

He had shown up at Grimmauld Place with Snape. After his professor had shown the werewolf Lupin and some enormous black wizard a scrap of parchment, miraculously, he hadn't been killed outright. Snape had left him with these wizards because he had to return to the Dark Lord's side immediately or be hunted down and tortured. Snape wouldn't be at Hogwarts teaching Potions, or Defence Against the Dark Arts for that matter anymore, either. The Death Eaters couldn't know it wasn't Snape's idea to kill Dumbledore. The Headmaster had planned this, he had been dying anyway, and as such, Snape, having fulfilled Dumbledore's request, decided also to honour the Headmaster's last promise to Draco, as well. To help him if he asked for it.

Draco sat in the kitchen of their headquarters and listened to the adult wizards talk around him. He was going into hiding. He couldn't - wouldn't - go back to serving that horror of a thing. Malfoys didn't scrape or bow or kiss the robes of half-blood maniacs. They didn't.

He didn't know what he would do. He had to pledge loyalty to someone, and he knew it wasn't going to be Voldemort. He wasn't even sure about the Order of the Phoenix, although it did seem like the lesser of two evils. He wished he could just be loyal to himself and to hell with the rest of the world.

Instead, he gave them what little information he'd been privy to. He gave them the use of his ancestral home, should they need it, and money. He could offer them that.

They spoke to him, asking him questions, and he answered without coercion. He supposed he'd had no alternative. He didn't remember half of what he'd said. After several hours of talking, talking, and more talking (the werewolf would NOT shut up), a short, stout woman with awful red hair (the Weasel's mum, he just knew it) came to take him up to his room. He fell on the bed, exhausted, and drifted off into a deep sleep.

He awoke from a nightmare with a start, several hours later, sweating and shivering, glad beyond measure that the dream he'd just experienced was just that -- a dream. He divested himself of his robes and put on pyjamas that someone had laid on the foot of his bed. As he lay back on the bed again, he looked around. Hell. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was not much better than the nightmare. It seemed as if the walls were closing in around him.

It was the middle of the night; he could walk around to calm down and not be bothered by anyone. He stuck his head out into the hall and listened. No one was up. He decided to have a look around. He found the library with a surprisingly decent selection of books, including several that were duplicates of ones at Malfoy Manor. _Whose house is this_, he wondered, _and why did the 'good guys' have some items that would have been in the Restricted Section at Hogwarts?_

When he got to the kitchen, he paused. Someone was awake after all.

He cracked the door and smelled something wonderful. A heavenly, sweet, delicious aroma assaulted his senses. Instinct took over and he stepped into the kitchen, startling its occupant. She was wearing pyjamas that were too small, and her auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail.

She looked at him. "Oh. It's you," she said without malice.

He didn't say anything.

"They said you were here." She stirred a pot on the stove.

He didn't look at her, and he didn't speak, either.

"Well, aren't you a right little ray of sunshine, then, spreading joy throughout the kitchen? I'll just count myself lucky to be in the same room with you, I will," she said with a small smile.

He glared at her. She smirked and raised an eyebrow.

He was shocked, although he didn't show it outwardly. _Damn her, that's my facial expression. I might as well have bloody _invented_ that smirk. _

"Can't sleep?" she continued.

He looked at a spot on the wall blankly.

"Want some hot chocolate?"

He stared at her. _Is she offering me chocolate like she knows me?_

"It isn't poisoned," she said. "I'm having some."

She set the mug down in front of him, spooning some marshmallows on the top. "Go on. The milk will help you sleep."

He looked down at the chocolate and said nothing.

She sat down across from him. "I'd take this back upstairs, but I don't want to wake Hermione."

_The Mudblood was here. Damn. That meant Potter and the Weasel were here as well_. He sighed.

"Is it _that_ exhausting, lifting a mug to your lips?" she inquired.

He didn't know what to say to this girl. He didn't feel like chatting, and he didn't have the energy or inclination to be nasty to her, so he remained silent.

She rolled her eyes, picked up her book, and promptly ignored the fact that he was in the room.

He tasted the chocolate and spared her a look. _Say what you wanted about the youngest Weasley, but she could make hot chocolate. _

They continued, he drinking and looking at the wall, and she sipping and reading. After a bit, she got up and put her mug in the sink.

"I'm off to bed. 'Night, Malfoy," she said through a yawn. She looked at him and smirked again. "'Night, Weaselette, thanks for the chocolate," she said under her breath, mimicking his drawl.

He held his mug and stared into it.

She wrinkled her nose and smiled at him. "There's no tea leaves to read in that one, you realize?"

She left the kitchen, chuckling to herself.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

He avoided all the people at Grimmauld place, after that encounter. Anyone he saw was just in passing… they all treated him with apathetic neutrality, with the exception that he couldn't leave the premises. With the exception of his nightly forays into the library, he managed to spend the rest of the summer within the four walls of his small room relatively alone.

But now he was back at school. He was thinking. He had a lot of time to do that, of late, and let his thoughts drift back to King's Cross. He was dropped off by Lupin, who warned him against breaking any school rules, and he boarded the Express, his eyes downcast and hands shoved in his pockets, praying silently that he could find an empty compartment to be alone for the long trip to school. By some stroke of luck, he found one, sat down, and waited.

He never lifted his eyes as he heard the door open several times, only to be shut again quickly as he heard, "What is _he_ doing here?" Or worse, a string of obscenities and insults that he couldn't even argue with, seeing as they were true. He really didn't even care if they hexed him.

Then the door opened, and it didn't shut again immediately. He looked at the ground near the door. Hew saw girl's feet, pink painted toenails, a creamy white calf and a yellow hemline that ended just below the knee. He also took in the faded black robes that were left open. His heart dropped. Not twenty minutes on the train and here's where it would begin. He didn't know if he was up to a fight. He braced himself for the worst.

The door closed behind her. And then, she sat down.

She had opened the compartment door and almost turned around and bolted in the other direction. After their little encounter at the beginning of the summer, she hadn't seen him again, and she guessed that he wanted it that way.

She looked at him now, waiting for him to tell her to leave, but he didn't move. He didn't look at her. He didn't insult or belittle her. He looked… sad. And tired. She didn't know what had come over her. First that night at Grimmauld when she'd given him hot chocolate, and now… what was it? Pity? She fingered her wand, contemplating cursing him, or getting a nice hex in, but thought better of it, and sat down, settling into the cushion and looking at him.

"Malfoy."

Had he heard her correctly? She said his name. It wasn't accusing or derogatory. It was soft, gentle and even a bit inquisitive. It was not what he was expecting. He looked up at her, and her gaze was as soft as her voice.

His voice failed him. He glanced back down at the floor again before strengthening his resolve and looking at her. Her deep brown eyes were full of concern. His gaze drifted down to the sprinkling of freckles on her nose. _A much better nose_, he noted_, than her brother's_. Her lips were full and dark pink and her mouth was slightly open. His attention drifted back to her hair, unrestrained today, tumbling down over her shoulders and back in fiery red waves. His breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful.

Oh, he was mad. He had gone 'round the twist. That was the only explanation. He didn't care how good her hot chocolate was, a Malfoy did not think a Weasley was beautiful. End of bloody story. He must have had too much time alone this summer. He refocused his attention on the ground. That was safer territory.

"Malfoy?"

She was louder this time, more questioning. Damn. Couldn't she leave him alone? He didn't know what to say, or how to act. He wanted to sleep, or disappear. Hell, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

The compartment door opened again and two more people stepped in.

"Hi, Ginny."

_Ginny. Right. That's her name_.

It was that fool Longbottom and that idiot from Ravenclaw with the absurd jewelry. Draco kept his focus down.

"What are you doing in here, with _him_?" Longbottom asked pointedly, looking at Draco as if he might Avada Kedavra him on the spot. "Ginny, come sit down in our compartment with us. It's fine, really."

"Oh, that's alright, Neville," she replied, "there's more room to spread out in here."

"You're sure you're all right?" Luna asked, eyeing Draco curiously. "There are Stinkpuffing Inglepods all over this train. They make people do things they'd never normally do. Keep a weather eye out," the girl said, dreamily.

"I will, Luna, thanks." Ginny grabbed a book from her bag and waved her friends off. They left reluctantly, and she tucked her feet up under her knees, reclined on one elbow, opened her book and began reading.

Draco's eyes moved up off the floor where he'd been staring at her feet. He regarded her for a moment. She'd taken off her robes and was wearing that idiotic Muggle dress, yellow, with white daisies on it. It showed a lot of bare shoulder and was fitted to the waist. It looked like it was too small for her. _Didn't this girl own any clothes that fit?_ His mind wandered to think about touching the curve of her neck or how her hair might feel to his fingers.

_Stop. Stop. Enough_. He'd been locked in that dratted room too long this summer. It had obviously done something to his brain.

He mentally shook his head and looked at her again more critically. She had an intense look on her face, studying the page she was on. Her body moved slightly with the train, rocking back and forth with the inertia of the locomotive. Just watching her was making him sleepy.

She lowered her book and looked at him. "Yes?"

He looked down at the floor again. The safe floor.

"Malfoy, you look terrible. Why don't you try and nap? I'll wake you up in time to change."

He looked at her with mingled amusement and disdain. "So you can hex me while I sleep? No, thanks, Weasley. Not interested."

She shrugged and went back to her book, biting absently on her bottom lip. She was reading a Muggle book. A Muggle poetry book, from the looks of it_. Milton? Pathetic. Never heard of him. What an enormous waste of time_. He forced himself to continue to think along this vein, how ugly she was, her interest in literature was inane, her family lived in beyond poverty, how she wasn't good enough to hold his house elf's tea towel…

His head snapped up. "Why don't you go and sit with Longbottom?" he asked harshly.

Her gaze didn't move from her book for a moment, as if she were finishing reading a sentence. Her eyes dragged up from the book to meet his gaze. "What?" she asked.

_She didn't hear him? She wasn't on guard? What kind of idiot sits voluntarily in a former Death Eater's compartment and then loses herself in a book of poetry?_ "Why don't you go sit with your friends?" he spat.

She looked at him blankly. "He speaks. Unsolicited conversation. Excellent," she replied blandly. "Okay, here's why. There _is_ more room in here, and they really didn't want me to sit with them, they've only just started dating and Luna—

"Stop," he said. "Enough. I don't need to know the mating habits of Longbottom and Looney."

She shot him a small smile, nodded, and went back to her book.

He tried again. "Wasn't there somewhere else?" _Less nasty. Damn._

She looked up again. _Did she look irritated? Is she kidding me? _He was even being polite… well he was being polite for _him_, anyway.

"No."

"No other empty seats?" he asked incredulously.

"None that weren't next to ex-boyfriends, or people that I don't care to be around."

"And you care to be around me?"

She sat up and put her book beside her on the seat. "Malfoy, I think 'care' might be a bit strong. But I'm pretty sure that you're not going to try to feel me up or want to snog on the way to school. And I didn't figure _you'd_ want to be chatty, either. So why don't you do what your eyelids have been threatening for the better part of half and hour and try and get some sleep." With that, she went back to her book, reclining on her elbow, twirling a piece of auburn hair around a finger.

Why did she keep insisting that he needed sleep? He couldn't look that bad. Anyhow, he certainly wasn't falling asleep in a compartment alone with a Weasley. Stupid, poor ugly… he tried to get angry with the sheer fact of her presence, but the soporific effect of the train was more powerful than his will at the moment and he drifted off into a deep sleep.


	2. Nightmares, Lunacy and a Favor

CHAPTER TWO

_He was running. His left forearm was burning fiercely and he was running through a forest he didn't recognize. He was following other dark-robed figures and knew he was going somewhere important. All of a sudden everyone stopped. He and the others walked into a clearing with a blue fire in the centre of it. All the others were making a circle and chanting. He was unable to hear what they were saying and didn't know the words to join in. Then they all knelt down before a tall, robed figure._

_All except him. _

_Malfoys didn't kneel. Who was this? Where was he? Then it became abundantly clear._

_Lord Voldemort's high-pitched hissing voice cut through the chanting and all movement and noise stopped instantly._

"_Why do you not pay respect to your Lord, young Malfoy?"_

"_You've given me no reason to," Draco answered. _

_Death Eaters around him hissed violently. At Voldemort's raised hand, however, the noise ceased._

"_You dare to question my authority, young Malfoy? Do you know what fate befalls a follower who is not loyal?_

_Draco shrugged and looked at him impassively. "Cruciatus?"_

_Voldemort laughed. "Yes, there is that. Or perhaps something even better. Perhaps you'd care to watch your mother die? _Expelliarmus_." Draco's wand flew out of his hand and landed hit the Dark Lord's outstretched palm. He handed it to a minion._

_Draco saw two hooded figures bring the trembling body of his mother into the centre of the clearing. The blue fire lit her face; her blonde hair had come free of the neat twist she always wore and her porcelain face was stricken with fear and smeared with dirt. Her robes were torn and filthy, and she had tears streaming down her face._

_Draco felt his stomach drop._

_Voldemort looked at Draco lazily as he pointed his wand at Narcissa._

"Crucio_!"_

_Narcissa screamed, convulsing terribly, writhing on the ground, blood trickling from her mouth._

_It was too much for Draco to take. "Me!" he shouted. "You want me! Don't harm her, she's done nothing! You want me!"_

_Voldemort lowered his wand and looked at Draco with his red, snake-like eyes. "No, young Malfoy. Torturing you would be a reward, yes? But torturing your mother? Well, that really is the worst thing I could do to you." He laughed again, a shrill, evil, high-pitched sound and raised his wand again._

"Crucio_!"_

"_No! Stop! You're killing her! Stop!" He began to move toward the maniac, but two men restrained him forcibly. "Take me!" he implored again._

_Voldemort lowered his wand again. Draco saw him turn toward him, as he continued to struggle against his captors. Narcissa was lying very still on the ground, but she was still alive. Only just, though, Draco could barely make out the rise and fall of her chest. _

_Draco sighed. He'd spared her._

_The Dark Lord smiled at the blond boy, and pointed his wand at Narcissa for the last time._

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_The green jet of light pierced through the air and struck Narcissa Malfoy in the chest. She ceased all movement._

_Draco's scream pierced the quiet forest air._

"Malfoy? Malfoy?"

_Had he passed out? Someone was trying to tear his arm out of its socket. Well, let them. He didn't care._

"Malfoy, wake up." He took a deep breath. _Lavender? And lilacs? In a forest? That can't be right._

"Malfoy. Open your damned eyes and look at me."

He did as the voice commanded. As he opened them, he looked up to see a pair of deep brown eyes looking concernedly back at him. There were hands on his face, gently touching it, sending shivers of pleasure all over his body. Her hair was falling right by his face. _Oh, that was the lavender smell. Mmm. Pleasant._

"Malfoy, are you alright? You're a little clammy."

Her face was very close to his. He could see all of the freckles on her nose and cheeks and her breath smelled sweet. _Mint? Yes, mint. Mint and Lavender._

She was close enough that he would only have to move a fraction of an inch to kiss her. _Where did that come from?_

He raised an eyebrow at the growing concern in her look. _Oh, she'd asked him a question. Right. Um. Better answer._

"Fine."

_Stellar answer, old boy._

She moved away to sit up.

_Don't leave…_

"Sure, Malfoy. You sound fine."

"I am." Damn. Voice cracked. _Malfoys' voices do not crack._

"Were you having a nightmare?" she asked. She actually sounded concerned. "I have them, too."

His breath came out in a rush. "He was torturing my mother. He killed her." It was out before he could stop it. What happened to his famed iron self-control? _Seriously, next he'd be going to group therapy with this stupid girl._

"Malfoy," she said softly, "That's awful. Him? _He_ did? But it wasn't real. Your mum's fine, right?" she asked soothingly.

"I don't know. I don't know where she is. She's in hiding. From him. To protect me." _Good Merlin, this girl must have Veritaserum in her fingertips. What am I doing?_

"Oh." Ginny shifted slightly, but didn't move her hand from his arm. "She's protecting you? Because you didn't want to join their side?"

He looked at her face. She looked hopeful. Hopeful that he wasn't a gigantic evil bastard who took the Dark Mark to please his father. _What had they told her this summer, anyway? _

His eyes moved from her face to her hand, the hand that was gently lying on the arm that bore the proof of exactly what he was. He looked away, shaking his head.

"It was a little late to decide that it wasn't the life for me," he said, his voice laced with bitterness.

"But you're here," she pressed on regardless, "you're not with him." She looked at him, tilting her head to the side. "Are you?"

"Not anymore."

"Oh." She took her hand off his arm and immediately he felt bereft of her touch. It was imperative at this point, that he get a grip. He didn't need this skinny, underfed whelp to touch him. He was Draco Malfoy. He didn't need anyone or anything.

She moved back to the other side of the compartment. "We're almost there. Maybe twenty minutes or so." He noticed that she'd changed into her school uniform and had a prefect's badge pinned to her robes. She looked out the window.

"Prefect. Congratulations." _Why could he not keep his mouth bloody shut around this loathsome creature? Pity._ That's what he should feel_. Pity and disgust_. He tried to force his face into a sneer. _Oh, screw it. I'm too tired._

"Thanks. I was just coming back from the meeting when I heard you and woke you up."

He sat up, cradling his head in his hands. "I was talking?"

"More like shouting." She winced. "It's okay, I do it, too." My dorm mates have to wake me up at least once a week. Absurd, really."

He looked at her seriously. "What do you have nightmares about, Weasley?" He couldn't think of anything, with the exception of poverty, that she could possibly have bad dreams about.

She flushed scarlet. _Isn't that pretty? _he thou_g_ht_. Stop it. Now_.

"Not being able to control myself," she muttered.

He frowned. "Being put under the Imperius?"

She smiled mirthlessly. "Kind of. I can shake off the Imperius, though. Learned that fourth year."

"Where did you learn that?" he asked incredulously. _That'd be a right nice little trick to have at family reunions_._ If we ever have any more family reunions, that is._

"The DA. Harry taught me."

Draco narrowed his eyes and called up his trademark sneer. "Of course. Perfect Potter. Savior of the world. Whatever will you do without the trio this year, Weasley?" _There it is. Thank Merlin, I thought I'd lost it completely_.

And then she smiled.

"Stuff it, Malfoy," she said sweetly. "Yes, Harry has a job to do, and yes, I'll miss all three of them. But Malfoy, your secret's out." She leaned forward across the space between their seats, and put her face very close to his ear.

"You're not the bastard everyone thinks you are."

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated hard on not thinking about how pleasant shivers were spreading out from where her warm breath had touched his ear. He exhaled heavily.

She stood up, grabbed her bag off the seat, winked at him and sauntered out the door.

In the month they'd been at school, he hadn't been close to her than passing in the hall. They hadn't spoken, but she smiled at him sometimes. In the Great Hall during mealtimes, he purposefully sat facing the Gryffindor table.

He felt the book in the inside pocket of his robes. He'd taken it from their compartment on the train after she'd left it, intending to give it back to her once they got to the school. But the opportunity had never presented itself. And besides, he liked the weight of it, the feel of it in his robes.

_I'm not obsessed. I just feel better when I see her. Hell. I am going arse over tea kettle crazy. Might as well reserve a room at St Mungo's… Malfoy, party of one._

He was eating, well, trying to eat, anyway, pushing the shepherd's pie around on his plate, all the while hearing his mother's voice scolding his poor table manners, when a shadow fell across the table. He looked up and for a split second, thought he was hallucinating. The smiling face of Ginny Weasley looked down at him. She sat down on the bench directly across the table from him.

"Hello, Malfoy," she sang merrily, as if it were the most commonplace action in the world for a Gryffindor to sit at the Slytherin table. He had been alone, no others Slytherins were around, but still. This was unheard of. And yet, here she was, looking like she had not a care in the world. "Mind if I join you?"

He felt as if he'd been hit with _Petrificus Totalus_.

_Say something. Say something charming._

"Please do."

_Brilliant, idiot. You're a regular sex god_.

"Thanks." She began piling potatoes on her plate and picked up a roll from the platter between them. She tucked into her dinner with a gusto which both amused and offended him, to a certain extent.

He smirked at her. "Shepherd's pie, Weasley?"

"Nah, I never touch the stuff. Had enough of it at home. Cheap to make, feeds a lot, you know." She raised another forkful to potatoes in her mouth.

"No," he sneered, "I don't."

_Ah, there's the haughtiness. I've missed you, old friend._

"Malfoy, stop. I thought that we were past that, truly." She looked at him. "Okay, fine. You can do this in public, but when we're alone, could you please drop the act?

"Alone, Weasley? When will we ever be alone?" he asked, thinking all the while, _Alone with her might be just the thing… It's been a long time. Hell, it's been a long time since someone has even touched me. In fact, it was her, on the Express. Hmm._

"I'm actually glad you stopped by, Weasley," he said. Then, realizing what he'd said, he choked.

She smiled. "You should ease into the whole 'being nice' thing, Malfoy. Too much at one time might… injure you."

His lips formed a thin line. He withdrew the book of poetry that he'd been carrying around and placed it on the table. "There. You left it on the train."

She glanced at it. "Yeah, I know."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I'd think you'd take better care of your things, Weasley."

_Don't say anything about being poor…Ahhh! It burns!_

The corner of her mouth lifted. "I do, thank you, _Dad_," she teased. "I left it for you."

"You did?" He frowned. "Why would you think I would read Muggle poetry?

"It's beautiful. Everyone needs more beauty in their life, right?"

He just stared at her, incredulous.

"Malfoy, have you even opened it?"

He shook his head.

She slid it across the table to him. "Keep it a while longer. I've got others to keep me occupied."

He picked up the book and was about to give her a very stern retort about Malfoys not reading Muggle books when he was stopped by a teacher walking by.

"Miss Weasley. Mr. Malfoy." The stern face of Professor McGonagall looked down at the two students. "I will be seeing you in my office shortly, I trust?"

"Of course, Professor. We'll see you in a moment." Ginny smiled at her head of house.

Professor McGonagall moved away and Draco's mouth fell open. "Of course, Professor?" he mimicked. "Weasley? What in the bloody hell is this about? Practical joke? Why would I want to go to that office?" _I've been there enough for one lifetime, _he thought.

Ginny smiled beatifically at him. "I've got a proposition for you."

_I'm listening._

"What?" he asked.

"Well, actually, I guess it would be more like a favour. Can I ask you for a favour, Malfoy?"

Cold, grey eyes leveled at her. "No." _Please. Depending on the favour._

"Come on, Malfoy. I need some help and you are just the ferret to do it."

He scowled. "Your description of me is positively flattering. What, pray tell, do you need, Weasley? Keep in mind that I'm not going to help." _Yet, inevitably, I know I will. What has happened to the Malfoy superiority?_

She swallowed a large last mouthful of dinner and stood up. "Potions, Malfoy. We need potions help. Are you up for it?" She began walking toward the doors of the Great Hall.

_Oh, Yeah. He was up for it_. He watched her retreating back for a few steps and pocketed the book. He was going to get up and leave in that direction, anyway. He wasn't actually following her or anything. Just… casually walking. Yeah, that was it.


	3. Manners, Potions and Loneliness

CHAPTER THREE

When he caught up with her -- casually, mind you, he had walked casually -- she had to practically drag him down the hall by the front of his robes. He was still a Malfoy, he wouldn't be rushed. "What's the hurry, Weasley?"

She huffed, "You heard me say 'a moment' to McGonagall, right? A moment, for her, is just that. Do you want to incur the 'Scottish wrath'? She spits when she yells, you know."

"Mmmm," Draco murmured. He sat at the back of Transfiguration for just that reason.

"Hurry, please." He allowed himself to be pulled up the corridor by Ginny, only because it was the first time he'd been touched at all since they shared a compartment on the train. He wished he didn't have this particular weakness. _Human contact. Bugger all._

They arrived at the stone gargoyle, and Ginny looked up at him.

He looked back down at her. She furrowed her brow.

He arched his eyebrow. "Weasley, I don't have the password."

She shook her head. "No, no. I do." She turned to face him. Listen, Malfoy. Don't shoot this down immediately. You're the best in your year at potions, and I'm no slouch either. So please, Malfoy. Consider this, okay?

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, Weasley. Let's get on with this, shall we? Password?"

She looked at him pensively, and said, "Highland Heather." The stone gargoyle leapt to the side, and they made their way to the Headmistress' office.

Ginny looked at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked up the stairs. His face appeared impassive, his blank, grey eyes staring straight ahead. _Oof. She hoped this was a good idea. It seemed like it at the time. Oh, really. What had she been thinking? He was a stone, this one._

"Good evening, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy," the professor said as she met them at her office door. "Sit, sit. Tea?"

Ginny smiled at the stern-faced witch. "Yes, thank you, Professor."

McGonagall waved her wand and tea and lemon biscuits appeared on the table between Draco and Ginny.

"Thank you," she said. Ginny glared at Malfoy, knowing that he _had _to have been raised better than this. He caught her narrowed look at him and then pointedly at the tea set and he quickly said, "Yes, thank you, Professor."

She grinned inwardly. _Well, well, well. He _can_ take a hint._

Ginny poured tea for herself and Malfoy, and handed him a cup. He took it and stared at her. She stared right back, looking at the teacup, as well.

"Thank you, Weasley," he whispered.

"My pleasure, Malfoy," Ginny intoned.

Draco's mind swam. His mother would be horrified. First he forgot his manners that she had drilled into him since he could hold a teacup, and now that he was using them with these people.

Professor McGonagall watched the exchange between the two students. _Hmmm. Yes, _she thought. _This might yet work_. She decided to break up the impromptu – and she had to admit, unexpected -- etiquette lesson.

"Miss Weasley," she began, "you know why you are here. Mr. Malfoy, you still need to be enlightened, I trust?"

He inclined his head.

Ginny kicked his shin under the table.

He shot daggers at the redhead with his withering glare. She stared back, unimpressed.

He exhaled. "Yes, Professor."

The older witch barely restrained a smile. "Very well, then. We, the Order, that is, need help. Potions help. Our current Potions professor, although a very kind and efficient teacher from the book, is not exactly adept at actually brewing the more complex potions. Rather reminds me of Finnegan, actually. Things begin to explode when he starts to get creative."

Draco snorted. There was no comparing Rearden to Snape. Where Rearden was kind and inept, Snape was thoroughly unpleasant, yet completely brilliant. The latter was infinitely better any day, in his unbiased opinion.

Professor McGonagall continued, "We need some people who are particularly skilled at potions research, or, perhaps I should say, research for a specific potion. The work has been started, but it has had to be abandoned recently, and the Order desperately needs to finish it. Since both of you know and have worked for the Order before, and since the rest of our number have recently become stretched rather thin, I hoped you would consent to helping us again."

This time Ginny snorted. She didn't know about Malfoy, but she had never 'worked' for the Order. Unless, of course, you called clearing all the doxies out of the living room drapes or cleaning the kitchen with no magic 'working'.

Draco merely waited. He knew there must be more to come.

McGonagall took the punctuated silence for a nod to continue. She cleared her throat. "Miss Granger has begun the necessary steps to create a potion to counteract the killing curse. She has made admirable headway, but has had to abandon her work for the search for... ah… other things. What we need from you two is complete secrecy on the matter and a swift completion of the project." She sat back, and waited for an answer.

Draco calmly sipped his tea. He regarded Ginny. She appeared to be calm, looking down at the plate of biscuits. Of course she knew all of this already. They were waiting for his consent. Did the Order really expect them to come up with a potion to do the impossible? Probably not. But they could do research, and when the Order wasn't 'stretched so thin' someone else could finish it. It couldn't hurt. He placed his teacup in tit's saucer and looked at his teacher.

"Is it possible?"

"You'll have to look at Miss Granger's notes to decide that for yourself."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Why me?"

"Mr. Malfoy, at the risk of sounding sycophantic, you are the best potions student Hogwarts has seen in years. Miss Weasley is not far behind you. Together, with Miss Granger's notes, I believe there is a great opportunity for success. So great, that it's enough to risk including someone with your chequered past in this endeavour. I don't have to tell you what it would mean for someone in your position to lend a hand to us and what it would mean to our side to have this potion…" She trailed off, knowing they knew exactly what it would mean.

McGonagall frowned at the students over her glasses. "Well?"

Ginny spoke first. "Professor, I will do my best." She calmly looked at Draco.

He glanced at her, face as impassive as ever. _So_, he thought, _it was either like a dream come true, or some horrible nightmare, perhaps_. He would see her, spend time with her everyday. Whatever the outcome of this fiasco, he didn't see that he had much choice. And this was better than the alternative of being thrown out of school.

He nodded curtly. "Right. When do we begin? Where shall we work? If secrecy is a problem, the dungeons aren't exactly the most clandestine place in the castle."

There was a collective sigh from both Ginny and McGonagall. Relief showed all over Ginny's face, and she beamed at Draco. He, in turn, felt his face grow hot. _You will not blush, you bugger!_

McGonagall handed Draco a thick stack of parchment, and placed two books in Ginny's arms. "Here are Miss Granger's preliminary findings. It's been arranged for you two to take an independent study course so an explanation can be provided to the other students and teachers as to where you will be in the evenings. And yes, Mr. Malfoy, it will have to be the evenings. This is important, but not an excuse to get out of regular schoolwork."

_Of course_, Draco thought, _she can't excuse us from our oh-so-important schoolwork. _

Professor McGonagall continued. "There is a door at the end of Dungeon four. The password is 'Asphodel at Midnight'. The room behind it should be stocked with anything that you may require. You may stay out past curfew, and you have my permission to cast a Disillusionment Charm on yourselves so that no other teacher or prefect can catch you out of bounds. But you must be careful still, the castle is … less safe at night."

The students nodded, and after McGonagall made them recite and practice the incantation for the Disillusionment Charm, they took their leave.

Ginny smiled happily and almost skipped down the stairs. She looked at the blond boy walking stiffly beside her. "What d'you reckon, Malfoy?"

He looked down at her and immediately wanted to smile. It was as if he were getting Christmas and his birthday all wrapped up into one. She was standing there, with barely contained glee, hugging dusty potions tomes to her chest and bouncing on the balls of her feet. _Adorable, _he thought_. Quit. Fine._

After he finished arguing with himself, he spoke. "Weasley, are you telling me this is how you want to spend your free time? In the dungeons, on a hopeless assignment with the enemy of your brother? Indefinitely?"

The bouncing stopped abruptly. She looked at him curiously and her face fell at his words. "Is it me, Malfoy? Do you not want to do this? Or do you not want to do it with me? I'm not Ron." She sighed. "Come on, Malfoy." Her face straightened. "I already told you. We're past that. And," she said as she studied the covers of the books she was holding, "it isn't as if I have a lot of social engagements pressing."

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. "Weasley, you have more friends than anyone in this school. You're constantly surrounded by people. How can you say that?"

She began walking down the hall, answering him. "At the risk of sounding girly, Malfoy, I suppose you _could_ say there are lots of people around. No one I really wish to talk to, though."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "At least you have _people_ in your dormitory. There aren't any other seventh year Slytherins left. And I have the additional pleasure of being the Hogwarts' pariah; the remaining Slytherins have no respect for me and think I'm a coward, and the rest of the school is scared of me and think I'm evil. Result? I've had a pretty silent term." _Oh, bloody hell. Why don't I get a hankie and blow my nose? Big baby._

They came to the door to dungeon four. He held it open for her and she stepped through. She gave the password to the door on the other side of the room and they entered in silence. She closed the door, and put locking and imperturbable charms on it before turning back around to face him.

"Well, lucky you, Malfoy. You get me for company now". She smiled sweetly. "And I've been known to talk a blue streak. You'll be sick of conversation soon, no doubt."

"No doubt, Weasley," he smirked. "No doubt."

He didn't think anything could be further from the truth. But she didn't need to know that. Just yet, anyway.


	4. Assessments, Dead Toads and First Names

Hermione's research was extensive. She had taken copious notes from several potions books and had narrowed the recipe for the potion down to a list of ingredients with one variable. After reading them, Draco had to wonder why no one had tried before. After attempting to make the potion, Draco found out. Their time was spent making the same ridiculously difficult potion over and over again, trying a different component at the same juncture each time.

They had been through three and a half very frustrating weeks of this. Normally, the cauldron would either melt or explode, causing pain or burns for the two students. They'd gotten a viable potion only once. The one time their solution _had _worked, they had given the potion to a test toad. It had not survived the killing curse.

Draco had been the one to do it, Ginny looking on, with a touch of anxiety marring her otherwise passive state. When the toad lay still, he put his wand in his robes and sat down heavily.

She moved to sit next to him. "Alright, Malfoy?"

He looked at her and his grey eyes were clouded with pain. He looked… oh, for Merlin's sake… he looked like he might cry. However, as soon as she had seen the emotion, it was gone.

She patted his arm. "It was just a toad, Malfoy."

He clenched his jaw, and she saw the muscles working in his face and neck. "I'd never done that before," he said.

She frowned at him. "Of course you hadn't. You're not a killer, Malfoy. You're better than that. But we have to try this dratted potion out on something, and as I'm not yet ready to test it on you, we'll stick with toads, eh?" She smiled at him. "Do you want me to try to do it next time?"

He sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped, a distinct contrast to his normally perfect posture. "No, Ginny, I don't." He pointed his wand and muttered, "_Evanesco_!" and the toad vanished. "You wouldn't mean it. We'd think we'd succeeded, and it would just be your care and concern for the poor thing."

She stared at him, openmouthed. She was completely taken aback. "You…" she sputtered.

"I what? Well, I don't fancy killing a slew of toads, either, but as we have no real choice-

"No," she interrupted. "You called me by my given name."

He swore inwardly. "Did I?" he asked, the perfect picture of innocence.

"Draco Malfoy! You called me 'Ginny'! I'm beginning to think you don't hate me," she teased.

"I don't hate you."

Silence filled the room.

"Really," she said quietly, "that isn't the impression you give. It isn't necessarily the absolute contempt that you have for my brother, Hermione or Harry, it's more like… oh… quiet disdain. Or that maybe I make you uncomfortable."

_Oh, hell. Did she want to talk about him, now?_

"Quiet disdain?" He raised his eyebrows and barely smiled at her.

"That's what I said." She looked at him more closely and became wide-eyed. "Are you smiling? Oh, Merlin, I think Hell might have just frozen over."

He smirked, properly this time. _She was amusing_. "Hand me a cauldron? Let's begin again."

She floated a new cauldron off of the shelf. "Oh, no, 'Slytherin King'. First you use my name and now this? You don't get to _smile_ at me and not tell me what it's all about."

He began adding ingredients to the pot, sprinkling, stirring, and adjusting the heat. She came up beside him and poked him in the arm. "Give over. Spill."

"Did…" _Oh, shite. He might as well say it._ "Did you ever think that I might be enjoying the pleasure of your company, Ginny?"

She looked at him, stunned. "No. Frankly, I didn't think that was a possibility. Not with whom my family is and who you are."

He pointed his wand to lower flames under the cauldron and asked softly, "Who am I?"

She stopped to consider, and then answered carefully. "Well, here's what I think. I think you've been two people, really. The one I've known for the past six years, the pompous git who snarled and sneered and was hateful to me, my friends, well everyone, really… the boy who joined the Death Eaters and who I hated for it --"

He drew in a sharp breath.

She continued smoothly. "But then there's the boy who showed up at Grimmauld Place and sat in the kitchen with me. The one I met aboard the Express on September first. Sad. Tired. Perhaps a little damaged--" Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at the absolutely tactful way she put that (which she ignored, of course, and continued) "—but not broken. He still has strength. And he's smart, and has a sense of humor, way, way, deep down, however sick and twisted, and he's brave to refute all he's been taught up to this point to make the right choices in life."

He continued stirring the cauldron. She touched his arm lightly. "Fair assessment?"

Draco continued to look at the simmering liquid. They'd spoken a little over the last three weeks since this project had begun. But they'd stayed to safe topics: Quidditch, classes, papers, magical theory, even. It had never been this personal. It was usually Ginny who did most of the talking. All he had to do was make a comment here and there and she could go on for hours. And he had really gotten himself into this. He had asked the question, and she'd answered honestly. The truth of it was that she wasn't too far off.

That didn't mean he knew how to respond. He resumed stirring.

She still had her hand on his arm. She reached over with her other hand and took the spoon from him and laid it on the table. Then she took his left arm and began unbuttoning the cuff. He jerked as if to move away, his face clouding over.

Ginny stopped him. "Don't," she said softly.

He wasn't sure what inside him made him acquiesce to her demand, but he stilled immediately.

She pulled at the button holes of his cuff and pushed his robes back on his arm. She carefully rolled the shirt up to the crook of his elbow and turned his hand over, palm up. She sighed and glanced at him. His eyes were… guarded? He was scared, she supposed. She looked back down at the black lines on his forearm and traced them lightly with her fingers.

"Sometimes, Draco, we need reminders in our lives that we are imperfect. Everyone makes mistakes. You must move forward from them, and remember to not make the same mistakes in the future." She bent her head down and gave his arm a chaste kiss, like a mother would to make a hurt better, and then she put his shirt back in place, moved to the adjacent table and began to cut more ingredients for the potion.

He was frozen, trying to process all that he'd just allowed to happen to him, all she'd said.

"You called me Draco."

She continued her task, not looking at him. "Mmm hmm."

"Thank you, Ginny."


	5. Questions, Confessions and Smiles

They fell into a pattern of sorts. Ginny would eat dinner with Draco at the empty Slytherin table or they would take their dinner down to the dungeons to work. Through an unspoken agreement, Ginny never asked Draco to eat at the Gryffindor table.

The entire school whispered about them. Everyone thought they were having a torrid affair. Malfoy got glares from the male population of Hogwarts for taking the most beautiful girl in the 6th year off the market, and Ginny heard whispers from the students saying that she was wasting herself on trash. Meanwhile, absolutely nothing but the 'subtle art of potion making' was happening in the dungeons.

With the exception of the one variable component, the potion was rather monotonous to brew. It involved a lot of waiting around, and stirring at precisely the right intervals. The waiting around was dreadfully boring in Ginny's opinion. During one of these boring interludes, she was sitting on a table, swinging her legs, absently nibbling on a cauldron cake.

She was watching him. He hadn't moved in a while, he was simply sitting at a table looking at the research Hermione had scripted. She couldn't tell if he was reading or just thinking. He had actually loosened his tie, earlier, and she'd teased him about "the impropriety." He'd almost smiled, then. His eyes had definitely softened.

She regarded him closely, now. He didn't seem to be paying her any attention, so she was really just staring blatantly. His hair was perfect, as always, but it was late, and there was a lock of blond hair that had fallen over his forehead. She suppressed the urge to push it back off his face. Hmmm. His face. He was really and truly beautiful, classically so. His features were angular, but when he wasn't busy being an arse, he was quite handsome. And when he smiled… Well. It was lucky for her that he didn't do that too often. She didn't know if she could be stopped, if push came to shove.

"What, Ginny?"

Her head snapped up, meeting his grey gaze. "Yes?"

"You've been staring at me for the better part of an hour." He looked almost amused. "Something on your mind?"

_Oh, yeah_, she thought. _There was something on her mind. Sweeping all the potions ingredients on the floor with one arm and grabbing the front of his robes with the other_…

"Ginny?"

"Ahem. Yes. Right. Sorry. Lost in thought. I didn't mean to be rude." She knew how prissy he could be about being proper. Evidently, she'd learned, proper ladies didn't eat too much, didn't laugh too loudly, always responded when asked a question… the list went on and on. And on.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked curiously, but still gently.

This was new. With the exception of that one memorable "incident," he never asked her questions.

"Um… the potion?" She frowned. The lie didn't come out as smoothly as hers normally did.

"What, Ginny? Don't trust me?" he countered, shooting down her last statement.

"No, Draco, I do. I think I do."

He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he absolutely adored it when she used his name. If she'd asked for all the gold in his Gringott's account he'd probably give her… well, half, at least. _After all, I'm still a Malfoy_.

"So tell me. What had you thinking so hard that you demolished your poor cake, hmmm?" The corner of his mouth turned up. He couldn't even stop it. She made him… happy, he guessed.

Ginny blushed. _Stupid Weasley genes_. _Alright, fine_. "Draco?"

His heart actually sped up when she said it. _I'm pathetic._ "Yes?"

"Have you heard the rumors about us?" she asked, wide-eyed.

_Oh,_ he thought. That was it. She was tired of their little arrangement. She wanted to go back to the rest of the wankers out there who were dead set on mauling her in a broom cupboard. _Not that he wanted--- He wouldn't ever--- Damn_. His eyes clouded over and a scowl appeared on his face.

She watched him as she asked her question. "I take it you have." She pressed her lips together firmly and inhaled. "I truly thought we'd become friends. But I guess old habits die hard. You still can't stand even being gossiped about regarding me. Shame."

It was his turn to go wide-eyed.

"What? No, Ginny I don't think-"

She interrupted him saying, "Here's what I think. I think we should probably go back to being Malfoy and Weasley, don't you agree? That's what it all boils down to, apparently." She looked away from him, afraid he might see the tears forming in her eyes. She gave a startled yelp when she turned back to him and he was inches from her face. He placed his hands palms down on the table, on either side of her legs and looked at her. He was silent for a moment, just searching her eyes. Her heart was beating wildly with his proximity and she could feel her face getting hot. _Oh, my. He's close enough to kiss_, she thought.

He leaned closer, hoping to make her understand what even he couldn't quite comprehend, even in his own head. He paused for a moment, to try to collect his thoughts, and then decided, _Hell. What do I have to lose, really_?

"That is most definitely not how it is, Ginny. We absolutely have become friends. It's the most brilliant thing that's ever happened in my entire time at this wretched place. I don't care if the rest of the sods who go to this school talk about us. I'd hate it if they hurt your feelings, but I could give a fuck if they talk about me. Hell, I'm glad they think we're snogging down here because that just means I don't have to share you with anyone." He sighed heavily. _Damn. He might as well. He already sounded like a lunatic_. "And another thing, I don't want to call you Weasley. It reminds me of your git of a brother and I don't like him encroaching into my thoughts when I'm with you. It detracts from the pleasure somewhat. Furthermore, if you go back to using my last name I-- I--"

His throat went dry and he couldn't make any more noise come out.

Ginny put her hand up to touch his cheek. Her expression changed from surprise to something much softer. She smiled. "You know what, Draco?"

He still hadn't moved his hands from beside her. "What, Ginny?"

She stroked his cheek. I think that's the most you've said to me, ever."

He smiled. A real, genuine smile. "Yes, I – I suppose so." _Her touch was addictive. Please don't stop. Please don't stop._

"Draco?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"I think you don't hate me after all."

"Of course not. I've already told you that."

A moment of silence later. "Draco?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Um, the potion?"

"Oh, bugger all." He backed away from her and went to stir the cauldron. _Merlin, he'd allowed himself to look foolish. And weak. What an idiot._ He stirred, berating himself for wanting her touch. Twice counter-clockwise, add root of daisy, a pinch of diced shrivelfig, turn down fire. Wait forty-five seconds. Turn fire back up.

Ginny waited for the familiar routine to end and then moved to stand beside him at the cauldron. He hesitated, thinking of all he'd just said to her. _What a prat_.

She touched his hand, intertwining her fingers with his and brought her other hand to touch his face.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"I don't care what other people say either."

She curled her hand around the back of his neck and twined her fingers in his hair. She pulled him down to her and kissed him. Sweetly. Soundly. Then she let him go, and walked back over to the table she'd been sitting on and, hopping on it to sit, pulled out another Cauldron Cake. _Well, that's one way to cure boredom_, she thought, smiling at the expression on his face.

He stood, rooted to the spot where she'd left him. He turned his attention back to the potion momentarily to make sure that the progress was satisfactory. He then went back to his desk, grabbed all of the parchment he'd been studying, and moved it all to the table that she was sitting on. He took a chair, and sat down. Ginny turned around and lay down on her stomach on the table, knees bent; ankles crossed, and picked up a bit of parchment to look at. She continued to peruse the document, twirling a lock of hair around a finger.

He just watched her. Oh, great Merlin. He had it bad. He wanted this girl, and worse than that, he wanted to be nice to her. To take care of her. Not that she needed that, he supposed, but he was smitten, and there was really no way around it. He sighed, not knowing if he was ready for something like this. This girl had obstacles to overcome.

He was watching her still out of the corner of his eye, and found that her hair, the previous object of his own ridicule, was now a magnificent attribute, tumbling down her back and around her waist in waves. She had soft brown eyes. Eyes that couldn't possibly harm, and a sweet face, with a personality to match.

Since when had he ever wanted _sweet_?

_Since about five minutes ago when she kissed me._

"Draco?"

He pulled out of his reverie. "Yes Ginny?"

She giggled. "Sorry. That's getting old, yeah?"

He leaned his head into his hands and answered, "No."

"Well, then… What, Draco?"

He looked confused. "Pardon?"

She smiled and cleared her throat, putting on her best 'Draco voice'. "You've been staring at me for the better part of ten minutes," she drawled. "Something on your mind?"

"Cheeky."

She grinned. "Yeah, it's been said."

He stretched languidly as he unknotted his tie and slid it out of his collar. She gasped sarcastically and put her hand in front of her mouth. "Draco? Have you lost your mind? What ever might happen if you take off your tie? Mountains might crumble and fall into the sea… the warming of the earth… cataclysmic, apocalyptic, catastrophic… um… really bad stuff, Draco. Are you sure that's good idea? I'm not even sure I respect you anymore… I … simply cannot go on…" She stopped as she heard an odd sound in the room.

Draco Malfoy was laughing.

"Ginny, you are rather amusing."

She took his tie from him and began to play with it. "So. Going to answer me? Something on your mind?"

He stopped laughing outright, but still chuckled every now and then. "You know, anyone else taking the mickey out of me would get hexed. But it's just funny when you do it."

"Well, I am the exception to most every rule, didn't you know?" She grinned at him. "Do you remember our train ride to school this year?" He nodded and she continued. "I whispered something to you after you woke."

"Yes," he said, "sweet nothings they were. Something about not being a bastard. One of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me, actually," he said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I told you that you weren't really what everyone thought you were."

"So you've mentioned. That was some assessment of me the other day."

"I think there's even more," Ginny replied.

"Do I want to hear this? I don't think I've even lived up to not being a bastard, yet."

"Come on. Do I seem like I'm going to hurt you? Do I seem like the kind of person to have a discussion like we've had tonight and then be a complete arse about it?

"Aside from the mocking a moment ago? No, probably not."

She took the tie she's been running through her fingers and hooked it behind his neck, pulling him closer to her. She studied his face. He looked amused, aroused and trying – unsuccessfully – not to show either, all at one time. _That's a bloody fantastic combination_, she thought.

"You're kind," she stated flatly.

He frowned. "No."

"Yes," she argued smilingly. "You are kind. And caring, a little. You asked me how I was, the other day."

"Out of my head," he defended.

"Maybe you could even be categorized as considerate. You pushed me out of the way when that cauldron exploded yesterday."

"Seeker reflexes."

"Thoughtful. You conjured bandages for my burns, even though I have a wand and am perfectly capable," she countered.

"Your wand arm was the one damaged--"

"Oooh. Chivalrous. You hold doors open for me. You always have done that for ladies. Even ones you didn't like. I could tell you didn't want to, but you've always been gallant; you stand when I enter a room or come to the dinner table, no matter where it is, the Hall or the dungeon."

"You're confusing chivalry with good breeding." He arched an eyebrow at her. "And I've always liked you."

"Lies," she said, laughing.

"Well, okay, maybe 'like' is the wrong word. I'll not deny the fact that I didn't want you to be a Weasley, but I've always admired what you were, even if I didn't admit it to myself. You stood up for people. You were always yourself, not hiding behind a mask. Witty, smart, non-judgmental Ginny. But clever. Able to get herself out of a scrape when necessary, perhaps by less than honest circumstances. One hell of a Quidditch player. Seeker and Chaser. Makes a mean cup of hot cocoa." He looked up at the ceiling of the dungeon. "Could've done without the hex though, that time in Umbridge's office," he added as an afterthought.

She giggled and murmured, "Sorry. Draco?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Why don't you smile around other people? I thought I'd seen you smile before, but tonight you've really smiled. Dear heavens, you've laughed! You're pleasant company, Draco Malfoy. I like you a great deal. I think other people would, too, if you let them see this side of you." She still had his tie around the back of his neck and she tugged on it a little.

"Don't care what they think," he said.

"Oh?"

"No. Only care about you." At that, he turned away, taking the tie gently from her hands, and set about finishing their tasks for the night.


	6. Musings,  Wanderings and a Good Night

They'd finished the potion and gone their separate ways at the outer dungeon door. He almost gave in to the instinct to walk her to Gryffindor tower, but at the last second thought better of it. _I've opened up enough for tonight_.

He walked down the hall to the dungeons and slipped into the empty common room. Exhausted, he sank down into one of the soft leather armchairs in front of the dying embers of the fire.

His thoughts drifted to the evening he'd just had. She was the only bright spot in his whole, lousy life. The only time he even felt alive in the past two months had been when she was with him: at dinner, in the dungeons, in the hall. She was the oxygen he needed to breathe. He needed this girl, and he'd never needed anything in his life. Never. Gods, she'd kissed him. He'd wanted to crush her against him then, and never let go. He'd definitely have to restrain himself. She was the only person in his life that didn't avoid or distrust him and he didn't want to be foolish at all.

_Although, after tonight_, he thought, _that ship may have sailed_.

He'd almost bloody confessed eternal love and devotion. He would have to reign in his emotions. This was all new and uncharted territory for him. He'd had physical relationships in the past, and he'd ended them as soon as they'd begun. Those girls all wanted part of his family, or his money, or his power, but Ginny was content just to be. And to let him be. She didn't let him be an arse, though, and she dismissed his attitudes summarily when they arose.

The one thing he kept coming back to was that he simply didn't deserve her. She could have so much more. The whole school had been pointing and whispering at them for over a month, now. Ginny had heard it. She'd brought it up. The rumors. They'd have nothing to talk about if it weren't for him.

He wished so much that things could be normal. He wished that his father weren't in prison. He wished that his mother was still at the manor. He wished that a psychotic half-blood wasn't rampaging across the countryside. He wished he didn't have a target on his forehead.

Draco sat forward and scrubbed his face with his hands. The fire had gone out. _Too much thinking_. He'd revisit all this in the morning. He walked into his empty dormitory

And began getting ready for bed.

Ginny sighed, changing out of her school robes and into pyjamas, thinking about the evening she'd just had.

She had kissed him.

_Kissed him_. It was bad enough when she'd kissed his mark. Oh, for pity's sake. She had it bad. She lay down on her bed thinking of what he'd said to her. That they were friends. That he cared about her feelings and he didn't want to share her with anyone. She smiled. The thought of him having proprietary feelings for her gave her butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She knew she shouldn't have, but she couldn't help kissing him. He was beautiful. She got to spend all of her free time with him, and was convinced that if she stuck it out long enough, he'd come around. She felt it almost as soon as she'd stepped into his train compartment September first.

She stretched out onto her four-poster and listened to her roommates' snores. Her thoughts drifted from Draco to the potion that they were working on. She mulled some of the components over in her head. There was something there, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, _something_ to make it all work. She went back in her memory to Hermione's notes.

Then it all clicked.

"Draco."

"G'way." Who would be coming into his room? The rest of the seventh year Slytherins had moved on to bigger things than Hogwarts. He had been alone for months, and if some swotty fourth year was waking him, he'd hex them.

"Draco."

_Feminine voice. Familiar. Mmm. Sleep_.

"Draco, really. Get up.

_Someone sitting on the bed. Smells like lilac and lavender. Ginny. Such a good dream_. "Leave me 'lone," he mumbled.

He felt someone touch his shoulder. "Draco. Please. Wake up.

He awoke from his dream with a scowl on his face, ready to throttle the idiot who'd dared to wake him. He'd make them think twice about waking him again. He flipped over and grabbed the wrist of his human alarm clock.

He came face to face with Ginny. _Oh. Good, Ginny, _he thought_. Still Dreaming._

Draco felt a rush of different emotions. Happiness that she was there, relief that it wasn't a Death Eater as his wand was all the way across the room, lust, confusion. . .

He exhaled and gathered her to his chest, closing his eyes again. "Am I dreaming?"

He could feel her smile. "No, sleepyhead."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm right here," she replied.

"Good."

She was tense for a moment, and then she relaxed into him. They stayed that way for a moment until Draco shook the last vestiges of sleep from his foggy head and sat up abruptly, taking her with him.

"Ginny?" He looked sleep-rumpled and sexy, his hair was hanging in his eyes, and even though it was dark, she could see that he wasn't wearing a pyjama shirt. _For heaven's sake, you've seen shirtless boys before, Gin._ But not one like this._ Get hold of yourself. Fine. _Mmm._ But it's nice. Very nice._

"Ginny?"

"Yes, it's me," she replied breathily.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in? Did anyone see you? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Ginny placed her hand on his arm. "Hey. Hey, stop. I'm fine."

Draco smiled at her and reclined back on the pillows. "In that case, this is a lovely way to wake up," he said sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Er, I dunno. Late. Or maybe very, very early."

He paused for a moment. "And what, pray tell, brings you into my bedchamber in the wee hours of the morning?" Couldn't stay away?" He saw her blush even in the dark.

"Well," she began, her voice shaky, "not this time, actually. I came because of the potion."

He sighed. "Did you go back and try to AK a toad, Ginny?"

She giggled. "No, prat. I've been warned off that. Not evil enough, you know."

He tried to quell the urge to make her laugh again. "Quite right." He took her hand and held it. "So. I interrupted," he said sleepily. "Apologies. Please do go on."

She looked down at their hands and then where she was sitting, and his state of undress. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I-I wasn't thinking too clearly. Lack of sleep, I guess. Do you. . . would you rather. . . go down to the dungeons and discuss this?"

He tightened his grip on her hand. "No. Just tell me, Gin. The potion?"

She took a deep breath, trying not to look at him directly. Her heart was thumping madly in her chest. She really must start thinking things through and not acting on impulse. _Oh, goodness. He's still there._

She looked at the headboard of his four-poster, just above his face. "Well, the potion notes Hermione left were for the Killing Curse, right? To completely block it. So far we've had no luck. But when I went to bed tonight, I couldn't sleep," she said, glancing at his face again, "and I was thinking, and, well, I think I came up with a different plan." She took a piece of folded parchment out of the pocket of her pajama pants.

He was silent, waiting for her to continue.

"So," she went on, "I think if we rearrange some ratios, and adjust the times here, and here," she said, pointing to the parchment, "we could really have something special."

She murmured, "Lumos." The tip of her wand cast a soft glow over the document so that he could see.

Draco's eyes widened as his eyes scanned the parchment. "Do you realize what this is? What this means?"

Ginny bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"I think it's dangerous."

She nodded again.

"I think it's brilliant."

She sighed. "Really? We don't know if it will even work, Draco. How will we even test it? Nox."

Draco chucked in the dark. "How to test a potion that rebounds spells onto the attacker? Certainly not with Avada Kedavra."

She flinched at the sound of the curse. "Maybe we should let McGonagall know what we have, yeah?"

"Perhaps. In any case, I'm sure our headmistress is sleeping in her tartan nightcap right know and this can probably wait until a decent hour, don't you think?" He squinted, looking at his grandfather clock in the moonlight, and could just make out "the middle of the night."

She followed his gaze and jumped. "Oh, my. I'm so sorry. This could have waited for breakfast. I was just so excited and had to see you."

Draco took her hand again. "As if I'm going to be upset with you." He yawned as he pulled her to lie down next to him, cuddled with her head on his shoulder. _Oh, yes. That just fits, doesn't it?_ "Any bloke would be mad to tell you to go away when you said you were excited and wanted to see him. He put his face to the top of her head and inhaled her scent, lilac and lavender—all Ginny, and kissed the top of her head. She snuggled in closer and gave a breathy sigh.

They spent a few moments in still quiet. He tightened his hold on her. "Ginny," he began softly, his voice rushing out of him, "you are the most amazing girl. I'm bloody lucky you spend any time with me at all. I don't deserve you, Gin. You're too good for me. I'm . . . well, I'm probably a bad choice, Gin. The worst, actually. I don't have the money I used to, all my familial connections have dried up and gone away, and I'm wanted by a lunatic, but I can't let you go now. You make it possible for me to live, do you understand? To get through the day. Do you understand me? Ginny?"

He craned his neck to see her face. The object of his affection, to whom he had just spilled his innermost secrets, was fast asleep. He sighed. It was just as well. He repositioned her onto a pillow, and pulling the blanket up over them both, and draped his arm around her waist. He remembered thinking, vaguely, before sleep descended, that this was how life should be. Content. Comfortable. Happy.


	7. Whimpering, The Walk of Shame and More

Ginny felt as if she'd been drugged. She felt the warmth of the sunlight on her face and kept her eyes closed as she stretched lethargically on her bed. _Mmmm_. _I must've had a good sleep_. She'd had a lovely dream. Draco in pyjamas, or lack thereof, in the wee hours of the morning. She arched her back, stretching her arms above her head.

And she made contact with something solid.

_Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no. Not happening._

_Oh, yes_. Her eyes flashed open. It wasn't a dream. She had fallen asleep. _In Draco bloody Malfoy's dormitory in the sodding Slytherin dungeons._ Coming to talk to him in the wee hours looked perfectly logical last night. _I really must start thinking things through to conclusion, _she thought_. Possibly even make a resolution at the New Year? Yes. I'll put this as number twenty-four, right after 'must give up Mervyn Wagtail obsession.' _She froze, mentally shaking her head of superfluous thoughts, and took stock of everything for a moment.

_Okay, still fully clothed_, she thought. _Good_. _Maybe a little disappointing, but really for the best. His arm draped over me. Hmm. Nice. Really quite cosy here. If I wasn't a Gryffindor girl in a Slytherin boy's dorm! Okay. Sunlight. Bright . . . oh, bollocks_, _have we overslept? _Her eyes darted to the clock across the room. _Damn._ Its hands were pointing to "Get a Bleeding Move On."

How the hell was she supposed to get out of this? Should she wake him? She turned her head slightly to look at him, and her breath caught in her chest. The sun was shining on his white-blond hair making him look as if he had a halo. It was positively angelic. His face looked blissfully peaceful . . . no scowl or worry lines, his full lips were even curved up into a pleasant expression. Ginny's stomach did mini-somersaults. She decided against waking him,_ someone sleeping so well must need it_. She eased out from under his arm and he frowned slightly, expelling a tiny whimper.

_Do Malfoy's whimper?_ She smiled, deciding she'd have to ask him at a more reasonable hour. After she found her wand (on the floor under the bed, so much for constant vigilance), she cast a Disillusionment Charm and crept stealthily from his room.

She moved very slowly through the Slytherin common room, as there were still students sitting about. _Trust the Slythies to skive off in the middle of the week_, she thought, with Molly-like disapproval. As she was merely Disillusioned, and not invisible, she took on a chameleon-like quality, adopting the appearance of whatever it was she was standing in front of. It took her a good fifteen minutes to reach the dungeon door, and even longer to go through the hallways. When she reached the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower, she ran for it, not caring who saw her out of class. She cast the counter spell, ignored the pointed look from the Fat Lady, gave the password, "Bravery," and sprinted up the stairs to change for class. She burst into her dormitory and saw that her hangings were open. _Damn and blast._ All her roommates knew she hadn't slept there. Or maybe they thought she just got up early. _Hmm_. She might be able to get around this yet.

She washed her face and performed a mouth freshening charm, dressed quickly, and headed out to the grounds to take her detention for being late to Care of Magical Creatures.

Draco felt cold. He pulled the covers up more tightly and then rolled over. He felt rather than saw the sunlight on his face_. Is it the weekend_? His eyes opened slowly, as he remembered the previous night. There was a piece of parchment on his bedside table and an indentation on his pillow. But save these things and a strand of long red hair on his bed sheet, there was no trace of Ginny. Gone. She _had_ been there, though. He felt an irrational pang of disappointment that she'd left without waking him. He hoped that she was alright, not embarrassed or uncomfortable in any way. Hell, if he had his way, she'd sleep next to him every night. He hadn't felt this rested in months. Of course, part of that could be attributed to the fact that he slept through most of his first class. _Shite. Potions._ Maybe he could convince Rearden not to punish him. _Doubtful, _he thought. _ The man is an absolute idiot. _

Ginny walked into the Entrance Hall from the greenhouses covered in filth. They had collected seeds from the Venomous Tentacula and she'd been forced to dive out of the way of a stinging tentacle, ending up in a pile of warm earth. She ended up with dirt smudged on her face as well as all over her robes and hair, and the whole ordeal had made her generally very cross.

"What the hell happened to you?"

She turned to the sound of the voice, and saw Draco, pressed and perfect, leaning against the wall in the corridor leading to the Great Hall. He looked incredible, his restful sleep of last night having erased the dark circles from under his eyes and the drawn look from about his face.

"You know, it's annoying that you look so clean and fresh. I'm hot, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower," she growled.

"Bad class?"

"No. I just got a late start this morning. Having trouble catching up." She shot him a look and gave him a half smile.

"Ah." He nodded, face impassive. "I know how that can be." He extended his elbow to her. "Care to join me for lunch? I missed breakfast and am truly looking forward to the noon meal."

She tried to brush the dirt off her robes before taking his arm. "Absolutely. I'm famished."

They walked to the Great Hall arm in arm. Ginny realized that they must look like the prince and the pauper from the Muggle story; Draco, regal and beautiful as always, leading a stray, filthy peasant through the tables. They sat down facing the rest of the room, and Ginny took out her wand.

"Anyone looking?"

Draco glanced up at the Head Table and scanned the rest of the room.

"Roughly half the Hall."

Ginny sighed. "Damn. Oh, what the hell. I'm doing it anyway." She pointed her wand at herself and muttered, "_Scourgify_."

"Tsk," Draco admonished. "Magic outside the classroom. Horrifying," he mocked. "Never mind. What are they going to do?" No one had even moved in their direction.

Ginny looked around and saw people gaping at them, but no teachers or prefects were coming over to take points away. She shrugged and started dishing out food onto their plates.

"Roast beef?"

"Please. Thank you."

"Potatoes?"

"Yes, of course, thank you."

They both skipped the salad and began eating their meal. Ginny broke the silence.

"So." _Brilliant, Gin,_ she thought. _Scintillating conversation. You're a veritable Jane Austen, you are._

"So," he replied. _Ha, _she thought_. He's no better, at any rate_.

"Did you get detention?"

He arched his eyebrow. "Yes. As a matter of fact, after lunch, I'm supposed to see McGonagall. Rearden didn't even have the stones to punish me himself."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"I have to see her, too. Hagrid didn't even make a fuss when I was almost an hour late to class with sleep-rumpled hair." She gave him a pointed look. "But he told me to see McGonagall after lunch."

"Hmm."

She swallowed a bite of potatoes. "Damn, damn, damn. Do you think she knows?" she asked in a whisper.

"Knows what?" he whispered back.

"Draco! You know perfectly – wait. You do know, don't you? Did you not ever wake up? I was – we, er --" she faltered, not knowing exactly how to explain this to him. It had seemed so very logical at the time. Then she caught a glimmer of a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

"You prat! You're having me on!"

He smiled lazily at her. "Of course I remember. Despite rumors to the contrary, I have not had many beautiful women spend the night in my bed."

She blushed. "How many?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Hmm. Counting last night?"

She nodded.

"Just the one. So it was memorable. Bit disappointing, this morning, though, you not still being there."

He looked so sincere and sweet that her stomach did little flip flops again. "Sorry. You just looked so peaceful, and I knew you hadn't had a lot of sleep, I couldn't bring myself to wake you." She decided to change the subject. "Don't you have an alarm clock?"

"Alarm clock? No. I set a time-release ward when I lock my door at night. It must have tripped when _someone_ unlocked the door to my room."

"Oh, sorry." She grinned impishly at him. "Had other things on my mind last night. I was kind of in a hurry."

"Yes, I recall. I brought the parchment. Perhaps we can distract our Headmistress with your brilliance and she won't punish us."

"Punish us for what?" she asked cheekily.

He chuckled. "Funny, Ginny. Funny. Do you think she knows?"

Ginny grimaced. "I hope not. We're in enough trouble for tardiness. I hardly think debauchery, lewd behaviour and being out of bounds all night would be favourable to add to the list."

"Wait a moment," Draco said, feigning indignance, "_I _did _none_ of that."

Ginny grinned. "Oh, _I_ was the 'debaucher.' For being in a boy's room. Slytherin, no less, and out of bounds, but _you_ were the 'lewd behaviour'."

Draco was shocked. His mind raced frantically through his actions of last night and he couldn't think of anything truly improper that he'd done to her, but maybe and apology was in order.

"Ginny, if I was in any way inappropriate--"

"Yes," she sniffed dramatically. "_You_ were naked. _I _was fully dressed. She pointed at him. "Lewd." And then at herself. "Not lewd," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I was not naked! I had pyjamas on!"

"But no shirt," she replied easily.

He lowered his voice at the horrified stares from the Hufflepuff table. "I wasn't expecting company."

She put her fork down primly. "The fact still remains that the lewd behavior was all yours. I shall put in a good word for you, though, that otherwise you were a perfect gentleman."

"Thank you ever so much," he returned, with a cheeky version of his comfortable smirk.

They smiled at each other. As they finished their meal and stood to leave the Hall, he spoke. "All teasing aside, I hope she doesn't know." He didn't want McGonagall ruining one of the nicest memories in his life. He sighed. "I don't think I want to share that with anyone."

Ginny studied him and could tell that he meant no malice by his words. "I agree. It's nobody's business."

"Right."

"Draco?"

He smiled. "Yes, Ginny?"

"Do Malfoys whimper?"

He looked at her curiously. _What an odd question_. He chose his answer carefully. "When the situation requires, Ginny, possibly so."

With that, she took his proffered arm and set off to the Headmistress' office to receive their punishments.


	8. Punishments, Apologies and Togetherness

Chapter Eight

Minerva McGonagall was in no mood for this. She had much to do, and doling out punishments to students who _knew better_ was the very last thing on her list of 'to do's.'

She'd had two girls from her house's sixth year come to her _before_ breakfast to tell her that Ginny Weasley wasn't in bed this morning, and then two teachers reported two students extremely tardy for their first class: Professor Rearden for Draco Malfoy and Hagrid for (surprise, surprise) Ginny Weasley. She'd sent messages back to both teachers telling them to send the errant students to her office and that she would personally see to their punishments.

Really. There was a war on. This behaviour was just superfluous.

She had just conjured up tea when there was a knock at her office door. The delinquents had arrived. She put on her most severe face and pointed her wand at the door. "_Portus Aperio_."

The door opened and in walked a very ashamed-looking redhead and a cool, indifferent blond boy.

"Sit," she commanded.

The students obeyed. She stared at them for a full minute before she spoke.

"What," she asked softly, "were you thinking?"

Ginny began, "Professor, please. It was my fault. I left my dormitory because I couldn't sleep. Draco had nothing to do with it. Honestly. I was--"

Draco cut her off. "Here, Professor. Take a look at this." He handed her a folded piece of parchment.

The older witch took the parchment and opened it, glaring at the impudent boy. Whatever this was, it would in no way explain the behaviour that went on—

She looked closely at the scrap of parchment.

And could not believe what she saw.

"What. . ." she sputtered. "What on Earth are you doing here? You're to get down to the dungeons immediately. You're excused from classes for the rest of the day. Find out if it works, children. I'll send a messenger to you to keep in touch so you'll not need to leave to let me know your conclusions." She handed the parchment to a stunned Ginny.

_At least Ginny has the decency to look shocked_, she thought fleetingly. _Mr. Malfoy, on the other hand, merely looks satisfied, even smug._

"Go!" she commanded. "And… ten points from Gryffindor; Miss Weasley, do try not to get _caught_ out of bounds again… and five points from Slytherin, Mister Malfoy."

"What for, Professor?" he asked innocently.

"Wear your pajama top, Mister Malfoy."

He paused and she could barely hear him murmur, "Yes, Headmistress," before he dragged Ginny bodily from the office.

On the way to the dungeons, the sniggering that had begun outside McGonagall's office grew into relieved laughter and giggles.

"Ten points!" Ginny protested incredulously. "Yeah, I was in your room past curfew, but you forcibly held me there!"

"I don't know what bothers me more," Draco mused. "The fact that she knows what I wear to bed or that she cares what I wear to bed. Creepy, really."

"Maybe it's the office," Ginny mused. "Dumbledore used to know everything that went on."

"Not everything," he replied darkly.

As if a wet blanket had been thrown over their previous merriment, they walked the rest of the way to their workspace in subdued silence.

"Asphodel at Midnight," Draco muttered tonelessly. They walked through the doors and Ginny turned to seal the entrance and set protective wards. Draco moved to begin brewing immediately.

Ginny sidled up to the workspace next to Draco and began chopping, shredding and dicing ingredients she knew they'd need. He asked some questions about the new ratios and the order that she'd come up with, and made suggestions of his own. They worked seamlessly, she handed him ingredients as he needed them, and he asked the appropriate questions here and there about her formula.

When it came time in the evening where they had to let the potion simmer for a bit, she decided they needed to talk. He obviously needed to get something off his chest about the events that transpired at the end of the last school year, and she knew that he wasn't going to give it up voluntarily. _Boys_, she thought.

She took him by hand and pulled him down into a chair facing her. "Talk."

His face was back to the mask she'd foolishly thought never to see again. "I beg your pardon?"

She rolled her eyes. "I beg your pardon?" she mimicked in a voice that sounded eerily like his lazy drawl, only several octaves higher. "Please. I know something's bothering you, Draco. Out with it."

He glared at her for several seconds, but her wide brown eyes never wavered from his grey stare, and finally he exhaled sharply.

"Hmmph. I keep forgetting you aren't scared of me."

She smiled and took his hands in her own. "And aren't you glad, really?"

He looked at their intertwined fingers and felt a rush of unnamed joy. He arranged his face to look disinterested and said, "I suppose."

Even that bit of a confession seemed to please Ginny, because her smile went to a full blown grin. She beamed at him for a moment, and then said seriously, "You'll feel better, you know? If you just tell someone?"

He was silent for a bit, and then began; his eyes fixed on a stain on the desk, left by a long forgotten student. "I didn't want to do it."

"I know."

"I thought I had no choice."

"I understand."

"If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't do it. I'd take it all back if I could."

Ginny shuddered, thinking of her handsome brother's face, now forever scarred.

"I'm--" he started. "Hell. I don't-- I'm not-- You wouldn't--"

Ginny remained silent, letting him figure out whatever he was trying to say for himself.

"I have regrets. Things did not go as planned."

Ginny nodded.

"I'm—remorseful," he mumbled.

Ginny looked at him speculatively. "Are you trying to apologise to me?"

He looked at her, exasperated. "Isn't that obvious?"

"No, as a matter of fact, that might be the worst apology I ever heard."

"Malfoys aren't "worst" at anything," he replied indignantly.

She grinned. "Ah, but I beg to differ. That was the worst "sorry" ever. For it even to be an apology, you have to use some form of the word "sorry," or "apologise" or "I was wrong."

He glared at her, and finally growled, "I'm sorry," under his breath.

She sighed and let out a giggle. "We'll work on it. You're forgiven."

He blinked and stared at her. "Are you serious? It was just about the worst thing I could've done short of actually performing the curse myself," he whispered. "It wasn't just low. It was something the Dark Lord didn't even want to try. How can you speak of forgiveness when I was willing to debase myself even further than that… _thing_? That's hardly the end of it, either. I hurt people close to you… I could've hurt you. Thank Merlin nothing happened to you because of my stupidity. If it had--" he stopped, unwilling to say more. "How can you forgive me?"

"I just can," she said gently.

He felt a rush of unfamiliar feelings, gratitude, he supposed, and found himself pulling her into his lap, placing her coppery head under his chin and held her. "I don't deserve to be here, and I certainly don't deserve to be here with you."

She leaned in against his chest. "No more than I deserve you."

He pushed her away slightly so that he could see her face, and leaned back a bit. "What are you on about, Ginny?"

She shrugged, settling back into him and exhaled. "Come on, Draco. You're well bred. Well mannered. You've nice things, an enormous home, more money than Merlin, you're elegant and graceful, and even beautiful," she said, a wry smile twisting her lips before she continued, "and I'm just Ginny."

He wrapped his arms protectively around the small girl. "You're only unworthy if you let yourself believe that rubbish." She began to reply, but he cut her off. "No. Let me speak. You missed my little speech last night, fell asleep in the middle of me baring my soul, you did. Now _that's_ despicable behaviour from a young lady."

She let out a small gasp at this revelation, but he continued. "Perhaps I'll address part of it again, if you can deign to keep your eyes open?"

She looked up at him and nodded.

He began slowly. "As for breeding and manners, it's a load of bollocks. You're as well bred as I am. You're a pureblood, too, and no, I don't think it matters as much as I used to, but there you have it. We're the same there. In addition, I believe your family tree extends at least a century before mine." _And they didn't have to buy loyalty_, _either,_ he thought. Manners? Weren't you the one that kicked me under the table in McGonagall's office to say please and thank you? My family had servants, so we didn't bother with superfluous niceties, we didn't need to most of the time." He paused slightly, thinking.

"Your manners are much better than mine, as I haven't had much practice over the years. You, however, seem to make people feel at ease around you. That's what good manners boil down to, anyway, I suppose."

He continued. "As far as 'things'go, I'm assuming you mean possessions? They mean – less than I thought they did," he said. _Considering I don't have as many as I used to, they mean less and less_, he thought. He looked at her. "You've always seemed happier than me, anyway. Yes, I'd noticed your existence before you made me hot chocolate this summer. You had friends that actually cared about you." _Even if they were gigantic twits, stupid, scarred, hero-wannabes and bossy know-it-alls_, he thought. "Money," he continued. "Money cannot buy loyalty." _Or happiness. Or friendship_. "You had _them_, I had Crabbe and Goyle." He pulled a face.

Ginny giggled softly.

"As far as beauty goes," he turned her face to look in her eyes, "you are the most beautiful creature I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. You put everyone else to shame with your inner beauty and make everyone stare at you with your physical beauty. You're heart-stopping, Ginny. Nothing short of amazingly gorgeous." She blushed furiously, but didn't break eye contact.

He did. He tore his eyes from hers and looked at her lips, soft and dark pink, and barely open. He gathered her body to his and pressed his mouth to hers. Searing tingles went to every part of his body as their lips and tongues joined, as he tried to communicate his feelings, his longing and pleasure.

He broke apart from her and put his forehead to hers. She giggled. "Oh, Draco. I knew you'd come around."

He raised his eyebrows, nonplussed. "Pardon?"

"Well," she whispered, "I've been rather waiting for you to kiss me, you know."

"Oh." _That was it? That was all he had? "Oh?" So much for the elocution classes, _he thought_. What a waste of Father's galleons those turned out to be._

"And I'm truly sorry I missed last night's speech," she said, smiling. "I solemnly swear that I'll stay awake for all future ones. Forgive me?"

He hugged her tightly. "I don't know. I was heartbroken," he teased, "you just used me for a pillow."

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "Do I need to give you a lesson in forgiveness, as well?" she asked.

He pushed her away to look at her again. "No. _Not for you, anyway_. I forgive you," he said softly, smiling a little. But do you believe me? Trust what I've just said?"

She nodded.

"Good," he said. Then he faltered. "You know, I've no clue where we go from here, Ginny."

She laughed. "That's easy. You're mine, Draco Malfoy, and I," she put a finger to his chest, "am yours. Is that alright with you?"

His chest tightened with another feeling that he'd never experienced before. "I think I can endure that arrangement," he whispered, and kissed her deeply.


	9. Interruptions, Hexes and Jealousy

They spent the next few moments watching the cauldron simmer, lost in their own thoughts.

"Ginny?"

"Yes, Draco?"

He couldn't help smiling a little. What would his father think of this? The Malfoy heir, enamoured with a Weasley. He shook his head. He didn't really care, his father was as good as dead in prison and his mother had been declared officially missing. The only person who cared about him in the world was currently sitting to his left, looking at him with beautiful, warm, brown eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She nodded. "Ask away."

"How did you get into my room last night?"

"I have six older brothers, Draco. I learned lots of useful information from them. From Fred and George especially," she said cryptically.

Draco shot her a look and repeated his question. "How."

She looked away. "Oh, fine. Ruin my attempt to be stealthy, sexy and mysterious, why don't you? I waited until one of your Slytherin reprobates came skulking in after hours and I followed him in under the Disillusionment. The hard part was finding your dormitory. The first three I went in were definitely not yours, and then I got stuck in a corridor waiting for some fifth years to finish snogging before I could move past them.

"Persistent," he observed with admiration.

"Hm, yes." She smiled. "I'm nothing if not that."

"I'm glad you found me."

"I'm sure you are. I am, too. I'm glad we didn't get into too much trouble."

"Well, I can only assume," he said, "that our Headmistress thought your brilliant idea was worth spending the night out of bounds."

"Lucky for us."

"Mmm hmm. It will probably be a wrench for you to come up with war-changing potions every time you want to spend the night away from your dormitory."

She merely shrugged and he continued. "I hope it won't be the last time, Ginny."

She looked at him shyly, smiling.

Draco smiled back. "I had the best night's sleep I've had in months with you there." _And I want you there every night, _he added silently. _I want to hold you, touch you, kiss you, and so much more._

She looked at him for a moment more and then turned around and started preparing ingredients for the next stage of the potion.

He frowned. She hadn't said a word. That was unlike her. He walked up behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Ginny? You will come again, won't you?"

She was silent.

He kept his hands lightly on her shoulders, feeling her trembling under his touch. He reached around her, removed the mortar and pestle from her death grip, and turned her body to face him.

"What is it?" he asked, shamed by her reaction to him. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm probably being stupid," she sniffed.

_Crying women. I'm no good at crying women_.

He handed her a handkerchief from the pocket of his robes, and remained silent.

She dabbed at her eyes and hiccupped, "Well, it sounded as if you wanted me in your room as sort of a human sleeping potion. I'm sure it's not what you meant." She looked at him hopefully through watery eyes, before shifting her gaze to a particularly interesting stain on the desk to his right.

He had no reference from which to draw. He had never comforted anyone, he'd never been confronted with a female crying about something that actually warranted his response, and even if it had, he'd just walked away. He considered his response carefully.

"No, you're right. I didn't mean that." He paused and began again. "I mean, I did sleep; and yes, I'm grateful, but no. That's definitely not the only reason I want you there." He took a calming breath. _I should shut up. Shut up right now. Malfoys do not show this kind of emotion. _

_Oh, hell. I can't stop myself._

"You have to know that… that I care for you, don't you? That the only reason I haven't kissed you before today is that I've been trying to -- hold back?"

"Why?" She frowned at him. "I've been practically throwing myself at you, Draco."

He tentatively took her into his arms. She melted against him, and her head fit just under his chin. _Why? That's an excellent question_, he thought.

"I don't know, Gin. It made sense at the time."

She put her arms around his waist, tightening her grip. "Well, no more, right? Promise me? Just be you, Draco. My Draco. The Draco I love."

His entire being exploded. He held her tightly, hoping fervently to prolong this moment, which was one of the happiest in his life.

No one. No one had ever told him that they loved him. It simply wasn't done in his family. None of the other girls that had hung on his arm had thought that he'd wanted to hear that, and he hadn't wanted to hear it from them, anyway. He wanted to hear it from her. From Ginny. He wanted _her_. This sweet, lovely girl with the beautiful brown eyes and long, gorgeous red hair. The brilliant girl he was holding is his arms with her body pressed up against the length of him.

He closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Life could not get more perfect.

Then fate intervened, wielding subtlety like a blunt axe forty-nine times to the neck.

Draco's thoughts were interrupted by a harsh voice from the doorway. "Oi! Malfoy. Get the hell away from my sister!"

He looked across the room and saw the blustery red face of Ginny's youngest brother, flanked by his best friends, and sighed. Irony was indeed a cruel mistress.

Ginny could have wept. Well, she had wept. Was still weeping. He was exactly what she'd imagined he could be, those first few weeks of working together. Sweet, tender, and - she hoped- a little bit in love with her, too. She wasn't sure, he didn't show his emotions very often, but what he could give her was enough for now. She was clinging to him, laughing through her tears and listening to his steady heartbeat when she felt him tense up all over. She pulled back from him and looked up at his face. His mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes were narrowed at the door. She followed his gaze and saw Ron, Harry and Hermione and their disapproving faces.

Draco released Ginny and she stepped back from him. He looked at her briefly, thinking, _Well, that didn't take long. Potter's been in the room for two seconds and she's done with me already._

Ron advanced on Draco. "What in the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy? Why is my sister crying?" He lunged for the culprit who looked at him disdainfully.

Harry held Ron back as Draco drawled, "None of your business, Weasley."

Ginny stepped between Draco and the other two boys and faced her brother. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! Enough! We were--" she faltered, and looked back at Draco, who returned her gaze with one eyebrow raised. "He's right. It's none of your damned business. Bugger off and calm down, alright?"

"He didn't make you cry, Ginny, did he?" Ron asked.

"Ron. Leave it. Draco would never make me cry."

Draco smiled to himself. _Heh. Take that, Weasley_.

"Draco?" her brother said incredulously. "_Draco_? Ginny? Has he put you under the _Imperius_?" He squinted at Malfoy critically. "Did you give her something?" He directed his suspicious gaze back to his sister. "We're talking about _Malfoy_, right? Of course he'd make you cry, and relish the pleasure in it. The sod lives for that. It's what he does," he finished simply.

Ginny looked at Hermione, silently pleading for her help. Her closest female friend blinked at her owlishly, and Ginny had the distinct impression she was being examined, like one of Hermione's revision packets.

Hermione shook herself out of her academic trance and moved to Ron, put her hand on his arm, murmured something in his ear, and, after Harry released him, led him to a corner of the room where they continued their discussion with hushed tones and wild gestures.

Ginny turned to Harry. "Hi," she said by way of greeting. She smiled at him.

"Hey, Ginny Bean." Harry gave her a lopsided grin and hugged her tightly.

Draco watched this exchange through hooded eyes. _Get your bloody hands off. Of. Her._ Ginny was speaking to Harry softly where Draco couldn't hear what was being said. It was taking every scrap of self-control he had left to give his attention to the potion in front to him and not take Potter's scrawny neck in his hands and _end_ him before Voldemort could even get a shot at him. He was amazed that he kept back the growl that threatened to escape his lips.

Ginny broke off the hug and led Harry over to the potion and Draco.

"Malfoy," Harry nodded.

"Potter," Draco intoned.

"I'm delighted that after six years of schooling, you've mastered each other's last names," quipped Ginny with a grin.

"So you're carrying on with Hermione's research, then?" Harry asked politely.

Draco remained silent. Ginny supposed that Harry was talking to her, anyhow.

She nodded. "We were until yesterday. Haven't gotten anywhere definitive with it, though. But we might have come up with something better."

Draco looked at Ginny. His face softened when he caught her pleading expression. It said, "Please do this for me." _You are a Malfoy; you shouldn't be talking to this trash. You will not give in. You will not--_

Ginny pushed out her lower lip a fraction of an inch.

Draco mentally rolled his eyes. _Bloody fucking hell. The sound you hear is that of the Malfoy heir being whipped into submission. Enter the date in your diaries, please._

The blond wizard stopped his internal rant, looked at Ginny again, and sighed. "Yes, Potter," he replied, his voice even. "Better. We think that Ginny has come up with a potion to rebound curses on to the attacker." _Not that you'll be able to make heads or tails of it, 'remedial potions boy'_, he thought, smirking slightly.

Harry looked at Draco as if he were covered in Bobotuber pus. He shook his head and tried to process what his erstwhile enemy had just said. _Ginny. Malfoy had called her Ginny_. Harry refocused his attention on the potion. "Rebounds?"

Draco handed Harry the parchment that he and Ginny had made notes on. "Take a look for yourself." _You won't understand it, but go ahead and try, _he thought with a mental snicker.

Harry took the paper from Draco, looking at him and Ginny in turn. Ginny turned back to Draco, asking him what was next and what he might need. Draco said something that Harry couldn't quite make out, and Ginny touched his arm and laughed softly.

Harry felt a black pit growing in his stomach. Ginny used to touch him, and laugh with him. Surely this could not be what he thought.

Ron and Hermione walked back across the room and joined the other students. "What's this then?" Ron asked.

"I--" Harry faltered, looking at Draco and Ginny. "I don't know."

Hermione took the potion instructions from his hand. "He meant this, Harry."

Harry's face reddened. "Oh. Gin and Malfoy are brewing a potion that's supposed to rebound curses."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she read through the notes. She whipped out her wand, summoned the heavy potions tomes, and settled down to look at all she had spread out before her.

Draco stirred the potion in the cauldron for the last time and bottled five doses. He put out the fire and banished all of the leftover ingredients to their proper places. Ginny crossed the room to get five specimen cages and floated them across the room to where the pair had been working. They looked as if they were at ease with one another, Harry observed. They were a team. They were partners. Harry felt nauseous.

Ron was the first to speak. "Is it finished? Are you going to test it then?"

Draco looked at Ginny, who smiled slightly at him, and then back at Ron. _Whipped. Two seconds away from total castration._ "Yes on both counts," he replied.

Harry spoke up. "What are you going to hit them with?" Harry asked, eyeing the toads in their cages.

Ginny came to stand beside Draco, and the blond wizard could smell the mix of lavender and lilacs, and it felt as if he was being drugged. _Fuck. Fuckfuck_fuck. Draco swallowed hard. "What do you think Weasley? What should we use to test it?" His voice was tight, but unfailingly polite.

Ron's jaw dropped, Harry looked at the floor, Hermione looked up from her books to hear the exchange, but Ginny simply smiled.

Ron recovered after a moment, and said, "I – well, I reckon we should start small, yeah? Don't want to rebound the Cruciatus on to ourselves, right?" he joked.

"I agree," Draco nodded. "Although, if the smaller curses work, testing the Cruciatus is inevitable."

There was silence in the room as Ginny slipped her hand into Draco's. They looked at each other, and then at the others.

Hermione cleared her throat. "How about the tickling curse? Unpleasant, but not too horrible. D-Draco?" Hermione asked hesitantly, "You brewed it. Do you want to be the first to test it?"

_The Mudblood used my name, _he thought_. Oh, gods. Keep it together. Don't start cursing people randomly._

Draco gave a short nod, giving Harry a nasty look out of the corner of his eye. The dratted duelling club from second year had not been forgotten. He took the toad from the cage and Ginny performed a holding spell to keep the creature from hopping away. She then gave it a dose of the potion. Draco took out his wand and aimed it at the toad. He eyed Potter again_. I could say my wand arm slipped. That it was an accident, and let that bugger have it. _

His eyes then rested back on Ginny, who was looking at him expectantly.

_I'm on a very short chain_, he thought. "Rictusempra!" he said, in a bold, clear voice.

A red light shot from the end of Draco's wand. Just about the time it would have hit the toad's head, it ricocheted off of a golden light that had surrounded the amphibian, and shot a purple beam of light back at Draco, hitting him squarely in the chest. He fell to the floor, clutching his sides and laughing uncontrollably.

The other students stood, gaping at the scene before them. Ginny was looking at the toad, having had to hold it to prevent its escape. Harry, Hermione and Ron were standing over Draco, taking in the scene before them. Real laughter. From Draco Malfoy. Sure, it was curse-induced, but still…

Draco looked up at them through teary eyes. "Please. The counter curse," he struggled to get out between hearty laughs.

Hermione snapped out of her trance. "Oh, of course." She pointed her wand at him and murmured the counter to the tickling curse, and the laughter stopped immediately.

"I'm so sorry." Hermione reached down to help Draco up off the floor. He looked at Ginny and then back to the Muggle-born girl. _I wonder if the Medi-Wizards at St. Mungo's do hand replacements_, he thought idly. He reached up and took her hand, allowing her to help him to his feet. He brushed off his robes, wiping the hand that had touched Hermione a few more times than the other. "Th- th- thank you, Granger." _And that sound is my father having an aneurism. Hm. Maybe there's an upside to this, after all._

She smiled. "Call me Hermione."

_Right, _he thought_. Let's not let this get out of hand._

"Holy Shite." Ron sat down at Hermione's table.

"Language, Ronald," Hermione scolded.

He ignored her. "For fuck's sake, there are certain things you just count on. Hagrid tries to kill us with mad, hairy things with too many legs, Mum sends a maroon jumper for Christmas, Hermione knows the answer to every conceivable question ever asked, and Draco Malfoy is a giant, throbbing arse. I think this might be the beginning of Armageddon. The world has gone insane."

Ginny stepped over to Draco, still holding the toad. "Maybe people are capable of change, Ron."

"It's just bloody hard to take, is all I'm saying," her brother wailed.

"Ron!"

"Listen." Draco placed a hand on Ginny's arm. "Considering my behaviour for the last six and a half years, I'm sure it's difficult to see me in any other light," he said quietly. "I've decided, with things being the way they are, to rethink my former actions." _For now, anyway_, he added mentally. The eldest three students gaped at him, too stunned to speak. _Merlin, I've rendered them speechless. Yeah, I've still got it_, he thought smugly, allowing his trademark smirk to cross his face.


	10. Dinner, Family and Friends

Ch. 10 A/N: Peki thanks for reading through & making me actually think about what I'm doing……FreeDaChickens, as always corrects everything that is correctable & Miran who thinks sometimes Ron has all the finesse and subtlety of a ballet dancing troll.

When Draco went to retrieve another toad from the other side of the room, Harry approached Ginny. "What's going on with you two? Are you… involved with him?" he asked, frowning slightly. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at her through his fringe in what he hoped was an endearing pose.

Ginny looked at him. "Harry, you broke up with me. We haven't seen or owled each other in months. I think you may have lost the privilege of access to my personal life."

Harry stared at her, and put his hand on her shoulder. "Fine, Ginny. But watch yourself. He's a Malfoy. His entire family is dangerous. Unstable, even."

Ginny took his had off her shoulder and held it momentarily. "Oh, give him a break, Harry. We aren't our relatives. You of all people should know that," she whispered, and after shaking off his hand, moved to Draco to hold and dose the second toad with the potion.

Ron stepped up to the test subject. "I'll go next, if that's alright."

Ginny and Draco stood over the toad and looked at Ron. "Alright," Draco replied.

Draco moved back as Ginny held the toad again.

Ron got the same results as Draco. Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were talking softly.

"…and you can't be angry with her, Harry. She's moved on. You can't blame her; you're the one that made a bad decision. She's only done what you told her to do."

"I know. But it still doesn't seem right, Hermione."

"Yeah. But being a prat about things won't help anyone." She patted his shoulder.

"Right. Okay," he muttered. "But I don't have to like it, right?"

Hermione smiled and managed not to roll her eyes. "Of course not."

Ron, Ginny and Draco joined them.

Draco cleared his throat. "Erm, McGonagall wanted a report back this evening and we'll want to check with her before using any curses stronger than we have. Also, Ginny and I haven't eaten dinner. Have you?"

Hermione blinked several times. "No. No, we haven't. We came down here directly after we arrived; we'd just missed dinner, actually." _Draco Malfoy, concerned with someone else's well being? The mind boggles, _Hermione thought.

Harry spoke up. "Let's have Dobby bring us something and we can send a message to McGonagall."

Ginny, Ron and Harry looked at Hermione. "Is that okay?" he finished.

Hermione blushed. "Harry, really. I'm over that. He is _paid_, after all."

Draco shot Ginny a questioning look. She shook her head. "Long story." He raised his eyebrow but judiciously remained silent.

Once Dobby had been summoned and subsequently calmed down, Harry asked him to do what they needed. Draco wrote the Headmistress a note explaining what had transpired in the dungeons and requested her presence at her earliest convenience. Dobby eyed the blond wizard suspiciously, took the note, and vanished, leaving the five students to themselves.

They settled around a table, Ron, Harry and Hermione on one side, Draco and Ginny on the other. There was an uncomfortable silence for several moments.

"So. Anyone read any good books lately?" Ginny asked.

There were small snickers and Hermione actually started to answer until Ron kicked her under the table.

"Really, guys. How was it?" Ginny continued. "Did you do what you set out to do?"

Ron hesitated. "Well, we—bloody hell. Malfoy, I know you worked for the Order this summer, but last year—blimey."

Harry continued. "We don't trust you."

Hermione glared at both of them. "Really, you two. He's been brewing a potion to help us. Not only the Order, but we three, and you especially, Harry. I think that calls for a little bloody trust," she growled.

Ron grinned. "I love it when Hermione swears."

Ginny cut them all off. "I trust Draco. I'd trust him with my life. So if you trust me, you can trust him," she said with finality.

Draco shrugged. "It's fine, Ginny. They don't have to trust me. Trust is earned, after all, not just granted. I've been pretty awful to a lot of people for a long time. Poor familial conditioning, you know. Even the elf was wary of me. Can't be helped." _What an utter load of shite. Can't believe I'm being apologetic to these idiots, Ginny excluded, of course. But they're buying it. Lapping it up like Hufflepuffs at Christmas._

Ron swore again. "Fine. Listen. We can't tell either one of you everything, but we've had some bloody great adventures over the last couple of months, and we can tell you about those."

Dobby came back with food from the kitchens, served plates all around, and bowed low to the students. He gave Draco a piece of parchment, and then backed away quickly. When Draco absently murmured, "Thanks," the elf shrieked, and with a soft pop he was gone.

"What happened?" Draco asked, startled.

Ginny smiled. "You thanked him, genius."

Draco regarded her for a moment. "Right." He mentally rolled his eyes. _For Merlin's sake. Now I'm thanking elves_? He glanced again at the place that Dobby had stood moments before. "I think that elf used to work for us," he said, frowning.

Hermione curbed the impulse to launch into an apoplectic fit as Ginny leaned over his shoulder to read the note. "She's coming to the dungeon at 10:30," Draco stated flatly.

Hermione frowned. "That's after hours. What's happened to curfew?" she asked as she began cutting her roast chicken.

"Since we've been working on the potion, Draco and I haven't had a curfew of sorts. We still have to be careful, of course, but we Disillusion ourselves to get back to our common rooms," Ginny said between bites of dinner.

_Take that, Weasel_, Draco thought.

Ron looked at Ginny and Draco. "You haven't had a curfew? Alone? With my sister?" Ron's easygoing attitude of the last couple of hours disappeared. "Malfoy, if you have done anything to her, I'll kill you. And I'm capable. Believe me."

Harry was stunned at his best friend's sudden change in mood. It was clearly time for him to say something. "Ron, he's probably not going to hurt her. Besides, this is Ginny. If any witch can defend herself, it's Gin," he said, winking at her.

_Probably? Watch yourself, Potter_, Draco thought. _I might not hurt _her_, but you're still fair game_.

Ron assented and Ginny smiled at Harry. "Thanks, Harry," she said. "I like to think with one notable exception, that I am an excellent judge of character."

Ron snorted and teased Ginny. "Ginny, Malfoy's sitting _right here_."

Ginny rolled her eyes, as Draco turned to her questioningly. "Not you. Another long story for another day."

Draco studied her closely. "At this rate, we'll have to schedule a block of time away for you to tell all these stories of yours."

Ron surveyed the couple across the table. "So, pardon my being frank, but are you dating?" he asked bluntly.

Draco and Ginny looked at one another and Ginny smiled, and then turned to look at Ron. "Well, we haven't gone on a date yet, as such--"

"I plan to rectify that," Draco said softly.

"But seeing as we just decided to be together about five minutes before you lot walked through the dungeon doors it can hardly be his fault." Ginny leaned in to Draco again and he put his arm on the back of her chair.

"So Mum and Dad don't know, eh?" Ron mused. "Can I be the one to tell them?" he joked, borrowing the twins' favorite mischievous smile.

Draco looked uncomfortable. Ginny patted his knee under the table and decided he was probably thinking about his own parents. She sighed. "Given the circumstances, Ron, I don't think that it's the right time to tell either of our families. Not that I care what either side thinks," she quickly amended.

She felt Draco relax behind her and smiled. "Enough about us. Tell us what you three have been doing!"

Draco and Ginny listened to the three former students talk about the past three months that they had been looking for these 'things' they couldn't talk about. They told of a skirmish near Ottery St. Catchpole and a confrontation near Devon. Harry and Ron got up and re-enacted part of a particularly nasty fight with some Death Eaters, and Hermione showed them a scar that ran the length of her arm she got from a run-in with Bellatrix Lestrange in Wiltshire.

At this information, Draco sucked in sharply before he could stop himself. All four of the others turned to look at him. Hermione said kindly, "It's nothing, really." She looked down at the scar. "I just didn't have the right potion to get rid of it. Madam Pomfrey will fix me up in no time."

Draco looked down. "Wiltshire?"

It clicked for Harry what Draco was concerned about. "She didn't get in, Malfoy. She couldn't, and she was angry."

"Looking for my mother, I expect." Draco frowned, trying to keep the worry and bitterness from his voice.

"Get in where? Who was looking for your mother?" Ginny asked.

"Malfoy Manor is in Wiltshire, Ginny," Draco said tiredly.

"Yeah, mate. That is one hell of a place you've got there," Ron said.

Ginny goggled at Ron. "You've been there?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's one of the Order's bases of operation along with Grimmauld Place. Malfoy's the Secret Keeper. Told us where it was over the summer," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of dessert.

Ginny stared at all of them. "Where was I when you were all so chummy?" she asked, indignant.

Hermione made an attempt to calm the redheaded girl. "Ginny, don't be angry. Your mother wanted you protected from this mess last summer. Besides, you were brewing healing potions for us, which we were extremely grateful for, by the way," she said as she indicated her arm.

Draco steered them back to the subject at hand. "So, the Manor? My aunt?"

Hermione took the story over. "She Disapparated before anyone could do much. But she was angry. Very angry with," Hermione hesitated, "you and your mother," she finished quietly.

"Yes, I'm sure she was. Without telling all of the nasty family secrets at dinner," Draco drawled, "Aunt Bella was more enamored of the Malfoy side of my family than the Black."

Ginny looked confused. "You're related to Bellatrix Lestrange?"

He looked disgusted. "Yes. But she was in Azkaban most of my life, wasn't she? I met her for the first time about a year and a half ago and--" he narrowed his eyes, "Didn't care for her personality much at all." _Crazy as a bedbug, actually. Psychotically insane. Certifiable. _

Ginny shuddered. "Yes. We've met."

He looked at her sharply. "You know these stories of yours are really racking up," he whispered softly, taking her hand and holding it. He cleared his throat. "Bella and my mother are sisters, and they have another sister as well."

"Andromeda," Harry interrupted.

Draco looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that's right."

Ginny looked stunned again. "Harry? How do you know about Draco's family?"

Harry mumbled, "Sirius," and Draco continued talking. "She was by far and away my favorite. Used to send me gifts and sneak over to see Mum when Father was out. I couldn't ever tell anyone, though. They had Dora to protect. Nobody wanted to find out what Father would do to them if they were found out." _Because Lucius' temper meant the Cruciatus. I should really shut up, now. Why am I chatting with these idiots like I like them? _He looked at Ginny. _Yeah, that's why_.

Hermione was putting all the pieces together. "Dora.… Tonks is your cousin?"

Draco nodded. "Hexed me admirably the first time she saw me. Of course, given the circumstances, I can't say that I really blame her. I was with people that were trying to kill her. She's good with a wand, Dora. Her hexes hurt almost as badly as yours." He smiled down at Ginny.

The redheaded girl blushed. "Right. Bat Bogey. Sorry 'bout that."

Draco shrugged. "No less than I deserved, I'm sure. Took more than a few people to reverse that."

"You don't want to get on Gin's bad side," Harry joked.

"That's no lie, Malfoy. I reckon I'd be the least of your worries, mate, if you did her wrong," Ron added.

Draco sat back and listened as the conversation continued. Ron Weasley had called him "mate." Twice. In one day. He was torn between vomiting and recognizing a very small sliver of pride that these people were tolerating him. They may not necessarily like or trust him, but they were treating him with a respect in direct proportion of his attitude to them. He listened as they joked around, teased, complimented each other, and how they gave advice and opinions on various subject when asked. There was no clear cut leader; no one gave instructions or orders. It was so different than any other dynamic he'd ever been involved with. _This must be what being friends looks like_, he thought, then shook his head slightly in disgust. _There's no need to take this too far, I don't need friends_.

He turned his head to look at the redhead sitting beside him and his expression softened. _Although, I _might_ need_ her.


	11. Kindnesses, Promises and Christmas Plans

Draco's train of thought, as well as his dinner, was interrupted when Hogwarts' Headmistress entered through the dungeon doors. She sat down with the students, listened to their progress, and praised Ginny's and Draco's collective efforts, assuring them that further testing was unnecessary.

McGonagall then informed them that the Order would test it under their own controlled circumstances on fully qualified wizards, and that would be the end of it. She did promise to keep them informed, which Draco took as the intended nod to their dedicated efforts, and asked that Draco and Ginny make several more batches of the potion.

When she stood to leave, she addressed them once more. "I would ask one other thing, children. Please continue to work on the first experiment. Miss Granger is here now and can help, although I gather she'll be a tad busy with a special project in the company of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. Do what you can, Miss Granger, but by no means overexert yourself, understood?" She looked around the table. "You should all get to bed soon. Mr. Malfoy? See to it, please?" Only after Draco answered "Yes, professor," did she take her leave.

Draco went over to an empty cauldron and began mixing things together. When Ginny started to go and help him, Ron put a restraining hand on her arm. "Can I have a sec, Gin?"

"What?" Ginny asked tersely. "I need to help him, you know."

"Yeah, okay." Ron nodded. "We can talk later, then?" he added hopefully.

"Sure," she agreed. Ron went to sit by Hermione and Harry. Ginny walked across the room to Draco, studying his features. Gone was the warm, almost sweet boy she'd spent the last few weeks with, and the impassive façade was firmly back in place. She watched him for a few moments, and then tentatively laid a hand on his arm. "Draco?"

His grey eyes met her brown ones. He almost smiled. "Yes, Ginny?"

"Let's call it a night, huh?"

"I'm almost finished with this." he said in reply.

She frowned, peering into the cauldron. "What is this?"

He stirred the cauldron briefly before extinguishing the flame with his wand. He bottled up a good portion of the contents and put a stopper in it. "Yes, I think we should stop for the evening," he declared. He picked up the bottle, and with a few casual waves of his wand, everything was cleared up and put away.

She looked up at him. "Tired?"

"Malfoys don't get tired."

She nodded seriously. "Course not. That might be a weakness." She smiled fondly at him.

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. i _You know that I have weaknesses, though, don't you_, /i he thought. He continued gazing at her, the corner of his mouth lifting a little. He put his arm around her and steered her toward the doors before stopping them at the table where the other three were sitting. "We're stopping for the evening – we still have classes in the morning. I trust you've accommodations?"

They nodded and murmured something about the spare teacher's apartments near Hufflepuff.

"Why aren't you staying in the tower?" Ginny asked.

"McGonagall doesn't want us interfering with the dynamic of students. We won't be attending classes while we're here, so she thought if we stayed in our old dorms we'd distract the Gryffindors," Harry answered, winking at Ginny.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry and nodded. "Right, then. I'll walk Ginny back to Gryffindor Tower." He set down the bottled potion he'd been holding on the table. "Here, Granger. Pomfrey doesn't always know what she's doing," he said gruffly, extended his arm to Ginny and stepped through the door.

As he held out his wand to Disillusion Ginny, he noticed she was wearing a very big grin on her face.

He rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Draco Malfoy! You are a softie!"

He narrowed his eyes at then and pointed his wand more directly at her. "Take it back."

She pushed his wand aside, laughing. "Won't. You like me. You were civil—even kind—to everyone and you gave Hermione a potion i _that you brewed just for her_. /i " She danced around laughing and clapping. "And you did it all because you like me."

He sighed and put his wand arm down. "I thought we'd already established that, Ginny."

"Well, it's just solidified, now. You can't take it back. You. Were. Nice. To. Harry. Potter!" A fountain of gleeful giggles burst forth from his companion.

He brought his wand down onto her head to perform the charm he'd begun before.

"Ow, Draco."

He put his hand on the top of her almost invisible head, as a sort of apology, his pale hand resting softly on her red curls. His hand moved through her wavy tresses and wound one curl around a finger. "Sorry. Got caught up in what you were saying."

She performed the charm on him, and they walked out of the dungeons. "You don't have to walk me back to Gryffindor, you know. I'll be fine."

"I'd like to escort my girlfriend to her room for the evening, if that's alright with you."

She squeezed his arm. "Wouldn't you like to escort her to your room?"

He smiled. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

She giggled. "Good. But Draco?"

"Yeah, Gin?"

She scoffed. "Tired of me already, huh?"

"Never." He cleared his throat. "Yes, Ginny?"

"Better."

"Right."

"Make sure you wear your pyjamas properly, this time. I don't want more points taken than there have to be."

"What are you doing for the hols?" he asked in what he sincerely hoped was a casual manner.

Ginny had been nervous about bringing this subject up, and it relieved her that he had. "Well," she replied, "I'm going home."

"Oh, right," he said impassively.

"But only for Christmas Eve and Day. We have too much work to do. We can't leave it too long. Every minute counts."

_ i She's right /i _, he thought. Every minute did count. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to spend so much time completely alone. Two days he could manage. It was just two days.

When he realized she'd fallen silent, he looked up. She was watching him; he found it amusing that he'd caught her watching him almost as often as he'd watched her. "What? You look concerned."

"I am." She let a small sigh escape her lips.

He stopped chopping and looked at her. "What are you concerned about?"

She moved to him slowly, and began speaking softly. "I know that you like me, Draco. And you know that I adore you."

His stomach leapt.

"I want to ask you to do something for me, but I want you to promise you'll say yes."

He studied her with a raised eyebrow. "Okay," he answered reluctantly. i _Promise to say yes? How could I say no to her? How could I deny her anything? /i _ He placed a kiss on her nose. i _Good grief. My father would go completely 'round the twist if he could see how the Malfoy heir was reduced to quivering jelly around this fiery haired sprite. /i _

She returned his kiss, brushing her lips to his. "Come home with me."

"No." He pulled away abruptly.

"You promised you'd say yes!"

"That was before you brought up something so daft. I thought you'd say something like 'wear a jumper, its cold,' or 'stay safe,' or 'take an umbrella when it rains.' Draco narrowed his eyes to mercury slits. "Adore me, your arse. Pftth! That's like feeding me to a pack of lions. Literally, in your case."

"Draco?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Do Malfoys spit when they rant?" she asked, wiping underneath her left eye.

"No. Figment of your imagination," he retorted.

"Hmmm. Thought as much." She moved to wrap her arms around him, scratching his back through his robes.

He arched his back and closed his eyes, leaning in to her, revelling in the closeness between the two of them. He breathed in her scent, putting his face in her hair.

"I want you to come home with me, Draco. For Christmas. After all, you've already met Ron and that wasn't so bad, right? Please?"

_ i One down, five to go /i _, he thought. He pulled away and looked down at her pleading eyes, which bore a remarkable resemblance to the Crup he'd had when he was a boy. He arranged his face into a sceptical expression.

"Has that face ever worked on anyone?"

She blinked rapidly. "What?" she asked innocently. When he quirked an eyebrow, she scowled. "Yes. Bloody hell. It's worked on i _everyone /i _ my whole life. Save you, of course," she huffed.

He stroked her forehead to smooth the creases that were there. "Hmm. Well, rest assured, your skills are intact. It worked on me, too."

She smiled broadly. "So you'll come?"

"Yes, Ginny," he replied. "I'll come. But don't let me think about it too much or I'll change my mind. And do let's try to get this potion done. It will give me a sporting chance when the rest of your brothers try to kill me for dating their little sister."

She laughed and then looked at him seriously. "They wouldn't use the Killing Curse, Draco."

_ i Great. That makes me feel loads better_, /i he thought.

She interrupted his thoughts. "They're much more creative than that." She placed a kiss on his neck and continued her task of chopping ingredients, smiling wickedly.

_ i Sweet Circe_, /i he thought. i _What have I gotten myself into_? /i 

The next afternoon found Harry scowling as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked down to the dungeons alone. He decided that Ron and Hermione needed a little time alone, and he was determined to figure this thing with Ginny out. When he'd left her at the beginning of the summer, he'd been so sure that she'd wait for him. He hadn't even questioned it.

He entered dungeon four and immediately saw her. The firelight from the torches was reflected on her hair and skin, making her seem to glow. Better yet, he noted, she was alone.

She smiled up at him. "Hi, Harry."

"Ginny Bean."

She looked at him with pursed lips, just like she did when Fred and George called her "Gin Bug." "Enough of that, Harry. You know I can't stand nicknames."

He moved to sit by her, putting his arm on the back of her chair. "It never used to bother you."

She glanced up at him reprovingly. "It's less appropriate, now."

"How so? We're good friends," he countered.

"Yes, but we're not together now, Harry."

"So… if Malfoy calls you 'Ginny Bean' that would be appropriate?"

She gave a wry smile. "I hardly see that happening, do you?"

He frowned and tried a different tack. "You let everyone call you Ginny. That's a nickname."

"Harry? Why are you forcing this?"

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "No reason, Ginevra."

She sighed. "Alright. Are you here to help?"

He put his arm around her shoulders. "Anything for you."

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him. "Erm, okay. Would you dice those daisy roots?"

"Absolutely, Ginevra." He gave her a quick hug and a wink, and set about the task she gave him. "You know, it won't be easy," he said to the back of her head.

"Harry," she said with a tinge of exasperation, "it's chopping daisy roots. It isn't as if you need an "O" in potions to do that."

"I'm not talking about the roots."

She met his gaze over the cauldron. "Oh."

"It won't be easy with your brothers. Even your parents, Gin. His family, his entire family has history. Even if we can "trust him" like you say, he still has a lot to overcome." He was silent for a moment, then continued. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer him

"I love you, Ginny."

"Harry--"

Just then, Draco came out of the supply closet, and strode quickly over to the cauldron, and gave it a stir. He looked first at Ginny, then at Harry. "Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Malfoy. Didn't know you were here."

Draco's gaze moved back to Ginny. "Obviously."

There was a strained silence as the three continued to do their respective tasks.

Harry finished his roots and swept them over to Ginny's table. "All done. I'd better be getting back to Ron and Hermione," he said. In a lower voice he continued, "Think about what I said, Ginny Bean."

Ginny closed her eyes and bowed her head, very still until Harry left the room. When she was sure that he was gone, she approached Draco. "Are you ready for bed yet?" she asked wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek on his back.

"No, not quite. If you're tired, you can go ahead. I'll finish up here."

She yawned, and snuggled closer to him. "Alright."

Hours later, she lay awake when she heard Draco come into his dormitory. Cloaked by the darkness, she took pleasure in watching him disrobe, pull out pyjamas, and get ready for bed. i _He really is extraordinarily beautiful_, /i she thought, taking in his chest and abdomen as he pulled on a shirt. She then caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight. He was troubled about something, she could tell. His "Malfoy mask" was slipping. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep, as he approached the bed.

He slid in under the covers and gasped when he felt her still form in his bed.

_ i Well, at least her body is here_, /i he thought. i _Even if her heart isn't_. /i 

He pulled her close to him, spooning behind her. He stroked her hip in a very soothing manner, and Ginny hoped that tonight would be the night that he would attempt to go further, but his hand stilled, stopped on her waist, his breathing evened out, and she knew that he was asleep.

_ i Damn it_, /i she thought, frustrated. i _A few more nights like this and I won't wait for him to make the first move_. /i 

She sighed heavily and snuggled more deeply into the bedclothes. He seemed to like her, he spent time with her and he was holding her. i _I guess that will have to be enough for now_, /i she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.


	12. Frustrations, Arguments and Suggestions

A/N: Peki helped make it believable and freedachickens helped make it readable, and kept me from sighing too much.

Weeks passed and the weather turned cold. Snow covered the countryside surrounding Hogwarts like a pristine blanket, and coated each individual needle of the evergreens in the Forbidden Forest, making it look as if a winter faerie had magicked everything into a winter landscape overnight. The weather made Ginny squeal with delight and want to go play in it, but only made Draco grumble about the unfavorable Quidditch conditions. The pair had come to an impasse with the potion. They tried every realistic combination of ingredients they could think of, but none of them worked.

"I think the toads are getting wise," Ginny stated one afternoon as she watched her breath crystallize in front of her face in the freezing dungeons. Even warming charms didn't last long in the bitter cold.

"Really?" Draco asked absently. "Did more escape?"

Ginny sniffed. "I feel badly for them anyway. I'm kind of glad they got away."

"Ginny the benevolent," Draco said as he put an arm around her for warmth. "Concerned for all living creatures, even the lowly toad. Have you spoken to Granger?"

Ginny snuggled into him, getting under his warm winter cloak. "No, I haven't seen any of them for three days. They haven't come into Gryffindor Tower, or the Great Hall."

"As much as I'm loath to admit it, we could really use her help, seeing as it's her ruddy potion we're making." He scowled at the potion before pouting. "We'll have to take it back to formula. Scrap the whole bloody thing and start over."

Ginny breathed into her hands trying to warm them up. "That will take forever," she mumbled.

"Tiring of me so soon?" Draco drawled. "Keep it up, and I'll take my body heat and proper winter cloak over to the other side of the dungeon."

Ginny put her arm around him and burrowed in closer making a 'huh uh' noise. She looked up at him, her mind working furiously. The landscape of her mind was a jumbled mess, trying to work out the potion, understand Draco, and make sense of her own feelings, all the while trying to keep up with her schoolwork. _Okay, Gin_, she thought. _What do you want? I want Draco to love me. I want this potion over and done with. I want Harry, Ron and Hermione to find whatever it is that they're looking for. I want… ooh, a piece of chocolate would be nice. I want Draco to do more than just hold me at night. I want him to have a nice time at the Burrow for Christmas. How do I get these things? _She was still frowning when Harry, Ron and behind them, Hermione, who was loaded down with books, came strolling in the dungeon door.

Draco waved his wand and levitated the books onto the nearest table, relieving Hermione of her load. She gasped, surprised, and said, "Thank you, Draco."

Draco, whose face contorted immediately to look as if he'd just sucked a lemon, nodded curtly. "Right." He turned back to the cauldron he'd been stirring.

Ginny approached Hermione. "Have you given any more thought to this bloody arse of a potion?"

Hermione looked amused. "Yes, actually, I have." Ginny sighed and looked away. The older girl noticed the palpable tension in the air. "Ginny? What's wrong?"

Ginny frowned and looked at Draco's back before turning back to the brunette. "It's just that this is not working, Hermione. McGonagall said you'd be here to help us but we've hardly seen any of you."

"Sorry, Ginny," she replied. "We've been busy."

The redhead barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Any luck?"

Harry and Ron walked over, joining the conversation. "No, not yet," Harry said dismissively. "We decided to take a break and come help you, Gin." He slung an arm companionably around her shoulders.

Ginny glanced at Draco. He was visibly tense, in direct proportion to her proximity to Harry. _Perhaps I should move_, she thought.

"Thanks, Harry." She smiled at Harry and discreetly manoeuvred away from him, towards Draco.

Hermione busied herself with opening and taking notes from several of the dusty tomes at once. Ron sat beside her, watching the quills that she'd bewitched to write the outlines of the books, to alert her if something important came up, so she could continue searching other books. They seemed to make great partners, Ginny noted. Amused, she saw they sat close enough to one another to allow their legs to touch. She smiled at her brother and looked up at Harry, and caught Draco watching her out of the corner of her eye.

When she turned her head, Draco looked away.

She watched Harry cross the room and pull down another empty cauldron off of the shelf, beginning to follow the instructions for the potion.

Draco looked at Ginny meaningfully. His eyes were impassive, blank. He glanced at Harry, and then brought his gaze back to Ginny.

"Er, Harry?" Ginny started, "Do you need help?

"What? Oh, no. This is really straightforward."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "I've been moved to NEWT level potions. I might be of assistance." She thought back to Ron's stories from his, Harry's and Hermione's classes with Snape. While he'd rarely failed things like poor Neville, Ginny thought he'd be hard pressed to produce a truly successful potion.

She moved to stand beside him. "Not so much belladonna. And you want to cut the daisy roots crosswise into smaller pieces, like this." She reached across him and took the knife out of his hand, remembering how he'd botched the job she'd given him the last time he 'helped'.

"I expect you think I'm hopeless, eh, Ginny Bean?"

She heard what she surmised was a snort from the general direction of Draco's cauldron.

"No, Harry," she said, "but there are right and wrong ways to do things."

Draco mumbled something under his breath and Ginny shot him a look.

Harry smiled at Ginny. "So teach me."

Draco levitated a book in front of Harry's face. "Page sixty- four, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Chapter two. Preparing daisy roots for potions. Teach yourself," Draco snapped.

"Touchy, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"No, but you may want to watch what you touch, Potter," Draco retorted.

All of a sudden, Ginny'd had enough of this. The seventh years, all four of them, could have this. She needed a bath and a rest.

She dropped the knife and said, "Good night, all. I'm a bit knackered and am going to have a bath and go to bed. Maybe this won't look as hopeless in the morning."

Draco turned and looked at her, a slight frown marring his pale forehead.

"You need someone to walk you," Ron insisted absently.

Draco and Harry looked at one another.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, I don't need anyone to do anything for me, thanks." She Dissillusioned herself and left the room quickly.

Hermione looked up from her research. "Go ahead, you two. Have it out."

"Have what out, Hermione?" Harry asked innocently, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Hermione tutted. "You two are positively predatory around her and I expect," she glanced at the closed door, "that she's had enough of it." She lowered her head back to her note taking. Ron sat silently beside her, apparently fascinated with a burnt spot on the table in front of him.

Draco and Harry regarded one another. They were silent for several minutes.

"You don't deserve her." Harry stated flatly.

"I know," Draco replied. "But you've had your chance and mucked it up."

"I know." Harry looked at the floor and then back up at Draco. "If you-- I swear to you—if you hurt her—"

Draco looked at him levelly. "I won't."

"You'd better not. The Weasley brothers would be the least of your worries."

"Fine," Draco snapped. "I'd appreciate it if you'd quit touching her all the time," he growled.

Harry scoffed. "She's a friend. I won't snub her."

The Slytherin laughed mirthlessly. "You think of her as more than a friend, Potter. And I'm not suggesting that you snub her. Just keep your hands off of her. I don't see you groping Granger."

"I don't "grope" Ginny or Hermione!" Harry retorted.

"Too right you don't, mate," Ron interjected.

"Alright," Draco amended. "Poor choice of words."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Both boys turned back to their cauldrons. Hermione cleared her throat. "If I may?"

Harry turned around and looked at her. "No, Hermione. You may NOT."

Draco looked at Harry, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'll stop purposefully flirting with Gin if you stop huffing every time I go near her."

"Fair enough," Draco returned. _Although I promise nothing_, he thought.

"But the minute you screw up, Malfoy, I'll be there. Know that."

"Won't happen."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know that?"

"Malfoys don't, as you so ineloquently put it, screw up."

"Ah, of course," Ron said jokingly. "We'll just add that to the list, then? Of things that Malfoys don't do?"

"Besides, Ron," Harry said, "I think he's wrong. The precedent's already been set for Malfoys screwing up."

Draco's wand hand twitched and Hermione cleared her throat again. "If I could just--" She fell silent at Harry's glare. Hermione then found she was a little surprised by Draco's, "Just what, Granger?"

She looked gratefully at Draco. "If I could just interject this thought into the testosterone fest you two are having, I'd say that Ginny left here, her whereabouts clearly defined. She probably wanted someone," she looked meaningfully at Draco, "to follow her."

Ron sputtered. "She said she was going to take a bath and go to bed. Neither of you gits need to go there."

Draco bottled his potion and cleared the mess with his wand. "I'm finished. You, however, are at the 'wait and see' portion of the brewing stage, Potter," he said as he indicated Harry's happily simmering cauldron. "Make sure it gets a full ninety minutes, stirred every ten."

Harry scowled and turned back to his project.

Draco left the phial on the desk and retrieved the robes he'd abandoned earlier.

"Hey, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

Draco turned around slowly. "Yes?"

"Doing anything for the hols?"

Draco eyed him warily. "Actually, your sister asked me to come to yours. Just for Christmas Eve and Day."

Ron smiled. "Good."

Harry turned around quickly, glaring at Ron while Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, go on, you two," Ron said easily, "just because I'm used to Malfoy and my baby sister being together doesn't mean the rest of my brothers will be okay with it." He grinned. "Come on, _Draco_," he continued, with emphasis on his name, "I'd hate to deprive them of interrogating you and threatening hexes every five minutes. I'm going to enjoy the show."

Draco paled slightly, but otherwise his face remained stony.

Hermione snorted. "Nothing will happen to you, Draco," she said airily. "Just make sure you get on Molly's good side first. She'll keep the rest of that lot in line," she muttered.

Draco scoffed. "I don't need protection." He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He stepped through the dungeon doors and headed to the prefect's bathroom to talk to his girlfriend.

As the doors closed, Hermione turned to Ron. "Do you think he stands a chance?"

Ron was still grinning. "With all of us? At Christmas? Please. Even if he does manage to get Mum on his side, he's a goner."

Harry smiled.


	13. Baths, Flaws, and Compromising Positions

Draco trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor prefect bathroom where he knew Ginny would be. Even after Granger's dare he say it – helpful? Insight into her departure, he was still unsure of what he'd actually done to anger the youngest Weasley. He didn't want Potter hanging on her; that seemed a reasonable enough request. He thought he'd shown remarkable restraint. _I didn't hex him, after all._

He got as far as the door and paused. What, exactly, was he going to do once he got in there? What would Ginny's state of undress be? How would he handle this? _Gods, I'm turning into a Hufflepuff_. He summoned all of his determination and knocked.

He was greeted with Ginny's voice through the locked door. "Occupied."

He knocked again.

Louder. "Occupied."

He knocked again.

The door jerked open as she shouted, "Did you not bloody hear me? I said occu--"

Brown eyes met grey and she fell silent. "Oh."

She stood clad only in a white fluffy towel with her hair piled messily up on her head. She gazed at him a moment, then turned and walked back into the bathroom, leaving him standing in the doorway.

"What did you want, then?" she asked.

He came in, locked and soundproofed the room, and turned to her. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Hmm." She motioned for him to turn around. He did so, and heard a splash of water as she re-entered the bathtub. "Okay," she said, giving him the go-ahead to turn around.

He turned to look at her again. She was beautiful. Her hair was pulled back. _To keep it dry_, he supposed. Little tendrils were escaping at the nape of her neck and forehead. Her shoulders and elegant neck were resting on the side of the enormous bathtub, the rest of her body concealed from view by a layer of white foam. Her sweet brown eyes were trained on the bubbles in front of her. _I really need to keep my mind on the task at hand_, he thought.

"So. You're angry with me," he began.

Her gaze didn't waver. "No, I'm not angry."

He frowned. "You're not?"

"No." She was still looking at the bubbles.

"It seems as though you are, Ginny."

"It would seem wrong, Draco." [Which, of course, is a lie. Haven't we all said this?

He sat down on the edge of the bathtub across from her. He removed his cloak; the humidity in there was bloody awful, and rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.

She smirked at him. "Shocking, shocking. You're not perfect now, you know."

He looked down at his forearm. "I'll never be perfect," he stated flatly.

She swam across the pool of water to him. "Hey, now. That was a joke. Neurotic level of fussiness with clothes and appearance? Remember? I tease? You laugh? We had this thing that we do…?" She trailed off.

He stared at her. "Yeah. I know you weren't talking about this," he said, indicating the burn on his arm.

Ginny reached up and took his hand in her wet one. "No."

"Listen, Ginny," he began. "I'm sor- Ah!" _Okay, deep breath_. "I apolo—Oh, hell!" [He feels that once a freaking day is enough, thank you very much He looked at her. "I adore you, Ginny. I don't want anyone else touching you, let alone calling you ruddy fluffy pet names. I'm jealous, okay? Very jealous. Of him. Around you."

"I know." She sounded resigned. "Harry and I… our relationship… it's hard to explain."

"Try. Your relationship with Harry? What is it?"

"We have such a history, Draco. My family, my entire family, not just Ron, loves him, and I-"

He released her hand. "Do you-- Oh." Realization dawned on him like a sack of Galleons. Suddenly, he felt like an arse for not seeing what he should've done from the minute Potter walked into the dungeon. "You'd rather be with him, right? Now that he's back? You loved him first. Loved him a long time, I'm sure. It's easier with him, right?" He sneered at her and stood up.

"Listen, I don't need your pity, Gi-- Weasley. That's how all this started anyway, right? I won't be your charity case, you can't save me. I don't need anyone or anything, and I certainly don't need you. So go back to Potter and follow him around until he decides to leave you again."

He watched her looking up at him with shocked eyes. He couldn't stop himself. His brain was screaming at him to stop, yet his mouth kept moving. "By the way, you can keep your Weasley Christmas, I'll be fine here. I'll probably finish the potion, too. I don't need you for that, either, so you can just steer clear of the dungeons." He turned and started for the door. "See you, Weasley." And he was gone.

Ginny felt as if she'd been slapped. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks and tried to assess things from a logical standpoint.

Draco yelled at her.

Draco thought she wanted Harry – Mad!

She had been completely naked and Draco had done nothing.

He had almost apologized and then gone on a full out rant.

He didn't want to work with her anymore.

She didn't understand this- this sudden change of heart, but she had to fix it. It took all the self-control that she possessed to pull herself out of the tub and towel off when all she really wanted to do was to sit there and have a good cry. She pulled on her flannel pyjamas and lavender dressing gown and padded back down to the dungeons in her stocking feet to talk this through.

Ten minutes later, still searching for the prat, she wanted nothing more than to yell back at Draco, now that she had come out of the shock that he'd put her in. Yell at him, shake him, and then snog the living daylights out of him, if need be, to make him understand that his attitude wasn't going to fly with her. Surely she could do that. Surely she could make him see reason. She had spent all semester with him, she thought he certainly must know, deep down, exactly how she felt about him, the git. She had to find him.

Instead, she found Harry.

Harry was standing very still in front of the cauldron where he'd been standing when she left him, looking as if he might be in a snit, or sad, or brooding.

Ginny found she really didn't care.

She approached him slowly. "Hey. Where is everyone?"

Harry looked up and, if anything, seemed more morose than he had before he'd seen her. "Bed. Ron and Hermione left fifteen minutes ago. Malfoy left right after you. Did he find you?"

"Yes."

"Listen, Gin. I'm sorry that I was flirting with you and I shouldn't--"

"No," she interrupted. "You shouldn't."

"I won't anymore. We came to an understanding."

She looked perplexed. "Did you?"

"Yeah. I threatened him; he rolled his eyes. We're all looking forward to Christmas."

Ginny frowned. "Somehow -- I don't think he'll be at the Burrow for Christmas."

Harry was confused. [Perpetually. Stupid speccy git. "Really? Ron even invited him- granted, it was probably to see what Fred and George will do to him – but Malfoy said you'd already asked him. He said he wasn't intimidated at all, et cetera, et cetera. Standard Malfoy prattle."

Ginny looked at the floor. She didn't want to talk to Harry about this. She sighed heavily.

Harry stepped to her. "Did you row, Gin?"

Ginny nodded.

"What did he say?"

Harry was looking at her with honest concern, and with that, the dam that had been holding her tears at bay broke astonishingly quickly. Tears flowed freely down her face and Harry reacted quickly, reaching over and hugging Ginny to him, putting her head against his chest and his chin resting in her hair. He rubbed soothing circles on her back and let her cry, murmuring quiet comforting words in her ear. [Get away from her! _Silly, isn't it. It's my story, and yet I still feel this way_. kicks Harry in the shin and runs

He had held her for quite some time as her sobs abated slowly, when the door to the dungeon opened.

Harry looked up and smiled.

Draco was standing in the doorway, frozen, staring at them.


	14. Emptiness, Bondage and Declarations

Ginny turned Draco looking at her; watching her being held and comforted by Harry. He glared at them both, turned on his heel, and left, the door slamming melodramatically behind him.

Ginny sighed tiredly. "Bugger. That didn't look good."

Harry tried to hide a smile. "No. It didn't" _Ha! Take that, Malfoy._

She looked up into Harry's eyes. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Harry."

"Want me to walk you, Gin? I'm nearly done here."

"No. I'll Disillusion. Be fine." She tapped herself on the head with her wand, and left the dungeons.

A little while later, Ginny lay on her bed, knowing that sleep wouldn't come. Why did he have to act like that? She didn't want to be fought over. She wanted to be trusted. She wanted to be loved. She wanted to take her bloody high-maintenance boyfriend home for Christmas. _Bugger. Bugger. Hell. Stupid, stupid boys._

After lying there awake for hours, she decided that waiting for sleep to descend was futile. She had to see him, and if she was awake, it was only fair that he should be, too. _I don't care how early it is. _She giggled_. Dead useful spell, that Disillusionment,_ she thought, smiling as she crept quietly out of the common room.

Draco had been lying awake, much as Ginny had, the only difference being the degree of cursing that was coming from his bed. _Stupid ass. Stupid Ass. Ignorant Prick. Imbecilic jerk. Fucking Idiot. Oblivious git._ He really hated himself at this point. He closed his eyes, not believing that it was he who had made himself miserable, that he had fucked things up, and there was no one to blame but himself. It was if he had tempted all the fates when he told Potter that Malfoys didn't screw up. And then he'd practically shoved Ginny back in his arms. Stupid. Ass.

Draco opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Ginny had been there. With him. With Potter. _Merlin, I actually hurt_, he thought. _Did someone jinx me and I missed it? It cannot hurt this badly just because some goody-goody Gryff doesn't fancy me anymore_. He closed his eyes again, and placed a hand over his stomach. This is worse than the Cruciatus, he thought. The feeling that he was experiencing was indeed worse than anything that his father had ever inflicted on him, and that was really saying something. In actuality, however, he couldn't even complain. Potter had told him what would happen. If the circumstanced had been reversed, he would've done the same thing.

He sighed, knowing that sleep wouldn't come. He paused in his thoughts—

_What the hell is that?_

He heard a small noise again and sprang into action. "_Incarcerous!"_

There was a muffled 'oof' as whoever was breaking into his room reacted to having their wrists and ankles bound.

"_Lumos_."

Ginny looked at him, amused. "I didn't know you went in for this kind of thing, Malfoy." She caught his glare at the use of his surname. "Oh, come now. You started it. I went back to being 'Weasley' about five hours ago, remember?"

He pointed his wand at her lazily, barely glancing at her while muttering a cursory "_Finite Incantatem."_

The magical bonds disappeared and she absently rubbed her wrists. He turned and glared at her. "What do you want?"

Ginny studied him silhouetted in the moonlight. Except for the expression on his face, he looked like an angel, pale skin and white-blond hair. However angelic he looked, it was obvious he was certainly not pleased.

Draco was shocked. He'd been an ass, a stupid, idiotic prick and yet she was here. She came to him. She was the loveliest creature he's ever seen, her hair mussed from sleep, huge eyes looking up at him, incredibly full, kissable lips and he couldn't stop being an ass.

"Draco?"

Oh, his name still did it.

He felt his resolve to be awful crumble. _I'm a puddle on the floor for this girl. Pathetic._

"Yes, Ginny?"

At those words, relief flooded through her being. She paused, and then continued smoothly as if nothing were amiss. "I'd like to say some things, Draco. And I'd like for you to be quiet until I've finished, if you can manage it."

She moved to the bed to sit, and motioned for him to do the same. He sat stiffly on the edge.

She took a deep breath. "You know what? You are a gigantic prat. You're selfish and spoiled, and you don't like to share. I'm oddly flattered by your jealousy, because I suppose it demonstrates more than passing affection for me, but it's tiresome as well, you and Harry sniping at each other. That's why I left last night. To get away from the pissing contest you two were having. You should know, Draco, that I left the bath to find you. I went to the dungeons looking for you and ended up crying on Harry's shoulder about you. I swear to you, I don't feel anything for Harry Potter than a kind of vague sisterly affection. I did love him once, and I'll not cheapen that by lying to you about it now, but I realize that what Harry and I had was just a drop in the bucket compared to what I feel for you, Draco. At first, yes, I felt sorry for you. On the train I thought, "Poor sod. No one to sit with" and then I developed a crush; you're extremely good looking when you smile. Somewhere between mixing potions and dark marks and Christmas invitations, I fell in love with you."

He drew in a sharp breath.

"No. Let me finish. You hurt my feelings tonight. You obviously don't trust me. I guess you don't even know me." The tears began falling. "You yelled at me, told me you didn't even want to work with me anymore and you didn't want to spend the holidays with me." She gathered her courage and ploughed on. "And what I need to know now, Draco, is if any of that rot you threw at me earlier was true. Was it? Was it a misunderstanding, Draco? Do you still like me? Because I'll be honest, I'm going to be a little upset if you were sincere in it at all." She sat back, waiting for his answer.

Draco was in shock. She _loved_ him? The most evil Slytherin since, well, since his father, probably, and she sat there telling him that she loved _him_. Even with his mistakes? His moods? Potter had been right. He absolutely did _not_ deserve this wonderful girl. He was trying to form words, but none would come.

She gave a little sob. "Well, thanks for listening; I guess I have my answer. I'll be going. Sorry to disturb your rest." She rose and crossed the room to leave.

"_Accio Ginny_."

She landed in his lap with her back to him and he hugged her fiercely. Closing his eyes, he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the sweet scent of lavender and lilacs, and murmured, "Not again. I won't lose you again."

She turned sideways in his lap and put her arms around his neck. "You never lost me in the first place."

"I don't deserve you."

"You know," she said thoughtfully, bringing a finger to her lips as if pondering something, "That's probably true. I'll just run along now and find some other chap who is more deserving than you, shall I?"

His hold on her loosened slightly and his stomach felt like it had dropped to his toes. "What?" he asked, genuinely confused

"Oh. Too soon to joke?"

He exhaled and scowled, "Yes." He picked her up and tossed her on the bed. She looked so sweet, so innocent and lovely in her dressing gown. Her hair was loose, spilling out in red waves over his pillows.

He smiled. "I've had dreams that started this way."

He slid in beside her and cradled her in his arms. She sighed deeply and he pulled her even closer.

_Never again. I don't care what I have to do to keep her. I will not lose Ginny again._


End file.
